


Unraveling Destiny

by griffindork93



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffindork93/pseuds/griffindork93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Percy visits the Oracle, she gives him the Great Prophecy instead of the lightning bolt one. At tale of how Percy faces his destiny when he knows from the beginning what is to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mummy That Didn't Speak

By the window, sitting on a wooden tripod stool, was the most gruesome memento of all; a mummy. Not the wrapped-in-cloth kind, but a human female body shriveled to a husk. She wore a tie-dyed sundress, lots of beaded necklaces, and a headband over long black hair. The skin of her face was thin and leathery over her skull, and her eyes were glassy white slits, as if the real eyes had been replaced by marbles; she’d been dead a long, long time.

Looking at her sent chills up my back. And that was before she sat up on her stool and opened her mouth. A green mist poured from the mummy’s mouth, coiling over the floor in thick tendrils, hissing like twenty thousand snakes. I stumbled over myself trying to get to the trapdoor, but it slammed shut. Inside my head, I heard a voice, slithering into one ear and coiling around my brain: _I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask._

I wanted to say, _No thanks, wrong door, just looking for the bathroom._ But I forced myself to take a deep breath. 

The mummy wasn’t alive. She was some kind of gruesome receptacle for something else, the power that was now swirling around me in the green mist. But its presence didn’t feel evil, like my demonic math teacher Mrs. Dodds or the Minotaur. It felt more like the Three Fates I’d seen knitting the yarn outside the highway fruit stand: ancient, powerful, and definitely _not_ human. But not particularly interested in killing me, either.

I got up the courage to ask, “What is my destiny?”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it definitely was for the mummy to move. I instinctively took a step back, thinking of the time when I had watched _The Mummy._ There was no way I was going to let some hippie mummy eat me.

But it didn’t reach for me. Instead it unclasped one of its necklaces and expectantly held out her withered hand. 

The last thing I wanted to do was touch the mummy, but with the trapdoor still shut and those creepy white eyes looking at me, although I didn’t know how it could see, I grabbed the necklace from it.

It was a leather pouch. It looked kinda like a Native American medicine pouch on a cord braided with feathers. 

The mummy resettled on her stool.

“Um, thanks.” Glassy white eyes continued to stare at me, then slid down to the pouch I still held.

Taken the unspoken clue, I opened the pouch, pulling out a roll of parchment the size of my pinkie. I unrolled it gently. It was yellowed and cracked and old, and I was afraid that it would crumble into dust and then I would fail my quest before I even started. And then Zeus would play target practice and hit me with a lightning bolt. 

My eyes skimmed the words. My heart stopped beating and my stomach felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath me. Almost like on one of those rollercoasters where the ride takes you up really high and then drops straight down suddenly at 200mph. 

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

“Well?” Chiron asked me. “What did the Oracle tell you, Percy?”

I sat in a chair in the council room. Mr. D and Grover were both there. The former wasn’t paying any attention to me, which at the moment, I was kind of glad for. Grover fidgeted anxiously, throwing me a nervous look as he chewed on a tin can. 

“Tell me? Was she supposed to speak?”

That got Mr. D’s attention, along with Chiron’s and Grover’s.

“Percy, are you saying that the Oracle did not speak with you? She did not give you a prophecy?”

I know it wasn’t the most important thing at the moment, but I couldn’t stop myself. “The mummy is a she?” I blurted.

“Did she look like a male Peter Johnson?”

“It’s Percy Jackson.”

“Yes, yes, whatever, Perry Jameson. Why didn’t the Oracle give him a prophecy?”

“Perhaps he is not meant to retrieve the bolt,” mused Chiron.

“But what about Lord Zeus?” Grover stuttered. “He’s given Percy a deadline. If the Oracle didn’t give him a quest, how is he going to return the bolt?”

“Slow down a minute. I never said it didn’t give me a prophecy. I just said she didn’t tell me one.”

Chiron turned to face me, worried eyes meeting mine. “What do you mean, Percy?”

I held up the leather pouch the Oracle gave me. 

The reactions were instantaneous. Chiron turned as pale as a part horse could, which was surprisingly white. Grover fainted, falling out of his chair with his hooves sticking up. Mr. D. did that weird bending light trick and created another goblet of wine out of thin air. Thunder rumbled, but Chiron didn’t scold the camp director like he had the first time. 

“Did you read it yet, Percy?”

I gave the centaur an odd look. Of course I read it. I was told to go to the Oracle and get a prophecy. A creepy mummy handed me one, so I read it. Why did one prophecy warrant such reactions? I couldn’t have been the first one to get one. Luke must have when he went on his quest. I guess the Oracle must usually speak her prophecies and not hand them out like candy. But still, they seemed a little dramatic to me.

“This is not good,” Mr. D. muttered as he sipped his wine.

Not even a week at camp and I’m already in trouble. I’m pretty sure that’s the fastest record yet. Although I don’t think the resident god had any room to be talking. Chiron had said he was on restriction, but here he was drinking wine. I bet once Zeus was going to pitch him off Mount Olympus, right after me, of course.

“Would you read it, Percy?”

I refrained from rolling my eyes,

_“A half-blood of the eldest gods_

_shall reach sixteen against all odds,_

_And see the world in endless sleep,_

_The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap._

_A single choice shall end his days._

_Olympus to preserve or raze.”_

“I am sorry, Percy.”

“Sorry?”

“I was not expecting this.” Chiron said. “Zeus will take this as proof that you have stolen his master bolt.”

“What!” I exclaimed, leaping to my feet. “This prophecy doesn’t even mention his stupid bolt. How can he use this to blame me? I didn’t steal his bolt!”

Chiron shook his head wearily. “That matters not, Percy. The prophecy you just read is known as the Great Prophecy. It has been foretold that a child of the Big Three would one day either be responsible for saving Olympus or destroying it. In order to prevent such a thing from happening, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades swore on the River Styx not to father any more children.”

Well, Zeus and Poseidon certainly didn’t keep that promise, obviously.

“You are destined to either save the Heart of the West or burn it to the ground. The gods will do everything in their power to ensure that you die so that the prophecy does not come to pass.”

Great. A whole lot of immortals now hate my guts and want to see me dead. And I never wanted to go to summer camp. I can’t imagine what I was thinking. 

“But, shouldn’t they keep me alive so I can save them? I mean, what reason do I have to destroy Olympus?” I asked. 

“The gods will not care, Percy. You are a threat to their survival. You shall have to stay in camp and train for the future. I will do my best to protect you.”

I stared open mouth at my once Latin teacher. Stay at camp? I couldn’t stay at camp. I needed to get to the underworld and save my mom.  “Couldn’t we explain this to them? Somehow prove that I’m not going to kill them all? That I didn’t steal Zeus’s lightning bolt?”

In light of the current situation, the bolt was the most concerning, but I didn’t want to be spare death because of the damn prophecy only to die because I didn’t give back the bolt like Zeus ordered me to.

“I do not know that they shall believe you, Percy, but we must try. Go, pack your bags.”

“Pack my bags?” I repeated.

“I am taking you to Olympus.”

Prophecy still clenched in my hand, I returned to cabin three to back the little belongings I had. Three orange Camp Half-Blood tee-shirts that I was given upon arrival, some jeans and other shirts from the trip to Montauk, toiletries Luke had stolen for me when I was living in the Hermes cabin, and my Minotaur horn.

I was about to take the coolest field trip that I had ever had in my six years of schooling at six different schools. And this time, the cool part was that I didn’t know whether or not I was going to die.

 


	2. I Face a Gruesome Death

Chiron prodded me into a white SUV (who owned SUV these days?), driven by the camp’s head of security, Argus. He was blonde, built like a surfer, and had eyes all over his body. It certainly gave a new view to keeping an eye on things. He could probably keep two eyes on each camper here. Which, if you ignored that it could be viewed as pedophilia, was pretty wicked.

Argus the chauffeur drove us into the heart of New York City, halting outside the Empire State Building. Having lived in Manhattan all my life, I knew that the Empire State Building only had 102 floors. So imagine my surprise when Chiron rolls through the lobby in his wheelchair, nods at the guard sitting at the desk flipping through a magazine, unobtrusively taking the key card he is handed, and puts it in the security slot of the elevator, which made a red button with the number 600 appear on the console.

Who knew that Olympus could be found on the six hundredth floor of an iconic national monument?

The doors slid open and Chiron stood from his wheelchair, returning to his centaur form, and calmly walked down a narrow stone walkway in the middle of the air. I, on the other hand, gaped like a fish out of water. A distant part of my brain realized that I made a lot of comparison related to the sea and that it was most likely because of my father, but I paid no attention to it. 

Below me was Manhattan, from the height of an airplane. In front of me, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky. My eyes followed beyond Chiron to the stairway’s end, where my brain just could not accept what I saw.

Look again, my brain said.

We’re looking, my eyes insisted. It’s really there.

From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces—a city of mansions—all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rosebushes. I could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other. It was an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn’t in ruins and all its inhabitants weren’t long dead. It was new, and clean, and colorful, the way Athens must have looked twenty-five hundred years ago.

Dazed, I trailed after Chiron as he called for me to hurry up, warning me against being late. I guess the gods were impatient, which was odd considering how long they lived. Shouldn’t they have learned that patience was a virtue by now?

Chiron led me into a throne room. Okay room wasn’t the right word to describe it. The place made Grand Central Station seem like a broom closet in comparison. A broom closet in my apartment. Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations. 

Twelve thrones were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. Each and every throne was occupied. Gods and goddesses stared, sneered, gazed, and ogled me as I followed the trainer of heroes in. I wondered how on earth they could have known we were coming, especially since I had to convince Chiron to take me to Olympus, when I realized one of the twelve gods was Mr. D. The camp director must have run to daddy when I rad the prophecy that practically promised I might end the world.

Zeus obviously sat in the center. The Lord of the Gods (Styx, I hoped I didn’t accidentally call him the king titan liked I called Kronos king god during the trip to the museum. Given what little I knew, Zeus would probably turn me into a black spot on the marble floors of Olympus.) wore a dark blue pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled gray and black like a storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy gray.

I briefly acknowledge that the woman to his left must have been his wife and Queen of the Gods, Hera, but I was more interested in the man sitting on his right.

The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very differently. He reminded me of a beachcomber from Key West. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman’s. His hair was black, like mine. His face had that same brooding look that had always gotten me branded a rebel. But his eyes, sea-green like mine, were surrounded by sun-crinkles that told me he smiled a lot, too.

His throne was a deep-sea fisherman’s chair. It was the simple swiveling kind, with a black leather seat and a built in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips. My ADHD was compelling me to jump on and take the chair for a ride around the throne room.

Chiron knelt before Zeus, and I quickly followed suit and dropped to my knee.

“Well, boy, where is my lightning bolt?”

Well, the gods never were known for their courtesy, but Zeus’s attitude pissed me off. I had never been to Olympus before. There was no way I could have taken his stupid bolt, but he still insisted that I was the culprit and demand that I returned what belonged to him. There was a familiar sound of waves crashing ringing in my ears as I stood angrily.

“Look, Zeus,” there were outraged gasps, “I didn’t steal your bolt. I didn’t even know I was a half-blood until a couple of days ago. I’ve been unconscious for three of them, and I’ve never been to Olympus before now. I didn’t know that Poseidon was my father. He’s never spoken to me, let alone even visited me or my mom, so I didn’t take the bolt for him.”

“Percy!” Chiron hissed.

The King of the Gods, stood, enlarging until he appeared the size of a giant. The room shook and thunder crashed when he spoke. 

“Poseidon has claimed you as his son. He seeks to overthrow me. If you do not hand over my master bolt immediately I shall cast you off Olympus.”

My rage, short as is was, boiled over at the god that would not listen. I decided to do something incredibly stupid and risky. Grover had mentioned that the Big Three swore on the River Styx because it was a binding oath.

“I swear on the River Styx that I did not steal your stupid lightning bolt.” 

Thundered rolled once more. Chiron’s eyes widened as he stared at me. The gods wore varying expressions of shock. I felt particularly smug at the agog one on Zeus’s face and couldn’t resist smirking. 

Next to him, my father was smiling broadly. I felt a warm feeling inside me when he smiled at me. It seemed familiar. Maybe he had visited me as a baby. That thought made me feel even better. The gods weren’t supposed to be in contact with their kids according to Annabeth, but my dad had come to see me at least once.

“You swore on the Styx.” Zeus said, rather stupidly. I nodded.

“You’re not dead.”

Binding oath, huh. I made a not to remember not to lie when swearing on the Styx. I didn’t like the idea of a river that could kill me if I lied.

“Clearly,” I said dryly, earning a couple of glares from the other gods and goddesses. But I didn’t care about them. They were blips on a radar. The only thing that mattered was the stunned face Zeus wore, my revelation in the fact that I proved a god wrong, because how often does that happen, and the proud look my father was giving me. 

My mother was the only person in my life that I had ever made proud. I still didn’t understand. I didn’t have magnificent grades or a great school record or any special talents.  She was proud because she loved me. But now, I had made my father proud. I had done something noteworthy and he was _proud of me._ Maybe it was possible for me to have a relationship with him.

“I think you owe myself and my son an apology, brother.” Poseidon’s voice was soft, like waves washing over the beach, but it echoed throughout the room. Zeus sputtered, turning red in the face. Hera laid a hand upon his arm.

“I’m sorry for accusing you brother,” he said through gritted teeth.

The Sea God tilted his head in my direction. 

Gnashing his teeth even more, making me idly wondered if there was a god of teeth that took care of all the other gods’ teeth or a dentist on Olympus, Zeus forced out an insincere apology to me. 

Normally, I would have been stubborn and held a grudge. Who am I kidding? “I think you owe me more than just an apology, Zeus.  You accused me of being a thief with no proof. You’ve tried to kill me once, and threatened to kill me again just minutes ago. I’m sorry, but sorry’s not going to cut it. You owe my father more too. You accused him of treachery and treason.”

“You insolent brat!”

“I want my father to be able to visit and talk to me.” I talked over the Lord of the Sky.

“I think that is fair compensation, brother.”

I smiled brightly at Poseidon, glad that my father supported me. I would have done it anyway, but it’s nice to know that he wants me too.

The other Olympians spoke up. Most agreed with me and Poseidon and insisted that Zeus grant my wish. With so many against him, Zeus had no choice.

“Fine. But only if my bolt is returned by the summer solstice.”

“What?!” I shouted, enraged. “I already told you I didn’t take it. I don’t know who did or where it is. I’m not responsible for finding it. You owe me.”

Thundered cracked and the air took on a smell of ozone. “I owe no one, Percy Jackson. If you find and return my lightning bolt, I shall allow your father to visit with you.”

My blood boiled at the unfairness. “Fine. But when I return your stupid bolt you will let Poseidon visit me. And you’ll grant me another wish. Swear it on the Styx.” I demanded.

“Very well. I swear on the River Styx that should you, Percy Jackson, return my master bolt, Poseidon will be allowed to break the ancient rule preventing the gods’ contact with their children and I will grant you any other favor.”

Apparently, that was all the dramatics for the day, as the Olympians began disappearing in flashes of light until only my father, Chiron, and I remained in the throne room. 

Poseidon gripped me in a strong hug. “You get that from me you know. The sea does not like to be restrained. I’m so proud of you, Percy.”

“Thanks, dad.”

He stepped back, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Your mother is back in your apartment. She does not remember anything of the last four days.”

I ashamed to admit that I had to think for a minute to remember what happened to my mother. “She’s back. But I thought she was dead?”

“No, Percy. Hades took her hostage. Why I don’t know, but once you swore on the Styx that you weren’t the thief she was returned to your apartment in Manhattan.”

We were silent then. What do you say to a father you’ve never spoken? A father you thought dead? A father that you learned only days ago was alive and only hours ago who he was?

Chiron cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Lord, Poseidon, but we should return to camp. Percy needs to confer with the Oracle and find Lord Zeus’s bolt.”

Poseidon nodded, releasing me. “I love you, son.”

I’ll admit it. I cried. I had always wanted a father. “I love you too, Dad.”

Then I followed Chiron back out of Olympus and to Camp Half-Blood. Thanks to Zeus I had another visit with a mummy planned.

That was when I realized not once was my revelation of the Great Prophecy mentioned. Maybe I should ask Zeus not to kill me when I reveal that I’ve know I could possibly destroy Olympus when I return his bolt.


	3. I Refuse to Listen to Wisdom

I was not happy. Not happy at all. In fact, I think I was the exact opposite of happy. I hadn’t been this unhappy since the first time I realized that my fat jerk of a step-loser was hitting my mom. I put a stop to that of course. Stinky Gabe was more than happy to hit me instead.

But that was besides the point.

Stupid Zeus was still making me find and fetch his stupid lightning bolt which he was stupid enough to lose. And this is what landed me in my current unhappy predicament. 

Chiron and I had returned to camp well after midnight. I made to head to my cabin and get some sleep. It was an exhausting day in which I had met a talking mummy an almost died more times than I could count. All I wanted to do was crash on a soft bed and not dream of creepy pits with shadowy voices that tried to tempt me.

Those dreams had started as soon as I came to camp. And they only got stronger with each nice that passed. I couldn’t understand what the meant, which admittedly wasn’t unusual. I wasn’t the brightest kid in sixth grade. All I knew is that they were bad news, like the FBI is hunting you bad. 

Chiron seemed to not care that I needed sleep. He forced me up to the Big House and back into the attic. It was the last place I wanted to be. 

The trapdoor shut behind me again. This time, I didn’t move. Sure, there looked to be a really interesting collection of monster parts, clothes, fruit that managed to not rot despite the constant 100 degree temperature, broken swords, shields, pikes, lances, arrows, and what looked to be an ancient tapestry showing the twelve labor of Heracles. It all looked really cool and really wanted to poke around and see what was up here, but I wasn’t taking another step towards that prophecy spouting mummy. The first time it gave me a prophecy it turned my already crazy life on its head, and I had had enough change to last a lifetime. 

I need to say it now. Fate hates me. 

It didn’t matter that I was as determined as a dog that wanted a bone about not getting another set of riddles that made no sense. The Oracle got up off her stool and walked over to me. I tripped as I tried to scurry backwards and landed hard on my butt on the trapdoor. 

The mummy cornered me and spewed the green mist again. Someone really needed to take her to a dentist because there was no way green breath was healthy. 

This time the mist formed into shapes of people I knew, but they spoke with a raspy voice that had to belong to the Oracle. If this is what happens every time someone receives a quest, I am very glad that the Oracle did not speak with me the first time.

The first person was the step-loser himself: _You shall go west and face the god that is spurned._

Then was my mother. It irked me to see my mother next that jerk even in an illusion: _You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned._

Mom turned into Grover, who nervously bleated his line: _You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend._

Last was surprisingly Luke: _And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end._

The figures dissolved and the mist retreated. The Oracle walked back to her stool and perched upon, becoming as still as a statue. 

Now I had to confusing poems to deal with. I would have stayed and tried to get answers for the many questions running through my brain, but the trapdoor swung open behind me with a resounding crash, sending dust flying and causing me a coughing fit worthy of an asthmatic. 

My second audience with the Oracle was over, and it had gone no better than the first. Besides, I could have stayed until I was covered in cob webs and as decayed as the Oracle and she probably wouldn’t have said another word. I was starting to feel like the gods like making demigods’ lives as difficult as they could. Why else would they set impossible quests and make it so hard to understand what they were supposed to do?

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

Chiron was waiting for me in the conference room, along with Mr. D. returned from Olympus and oblivious to the glare I was giving him for ratting me out. For reasons I couldn’t fathom (wasn’t fathom an awesome word. I had learned it in English at Yancy and made every effort to use it as often as I could. The world had a fathomless number of uses. And sound cool and sophisticated.) Grover was present. 

Chiron beckoned me forward and bade me to sit next to him. I declined and sat next to Grover. I reasonably felt it I was any closer to our camp director that I would attempt to strangle him even though it was impossible to kill a god. As I crossed the room, I got a distinct feeling that I was being watched.

Chiron leaned forward. “Tell us exactly what the Oracle said.”

I recited the prophecy, feeling awfully like a dog trained to do tricks whenever its owner demanded it. Chiron was pleased with it. 

“That is good news, Percy. You will succeed in finding and returning the Lord of the Skies lost lightning bolt.”

“Good news! I’m supposed to face a god with attention issues and get betrayed, and you call that good news?”

“But you will return the bolt.”

“How do you know that? It also says that I will fail to save what matters most in the end. The only thing that matters on this quest is getting the bolt back to Zeus. Which it doesn’t look like I’m going to do. Which means that Zeus is going to fry me like a chicken.”

“Prophecies often have more than one meaning and are not understood until they have come to pass. Do not worry. It is possible that you fail to save something else.”

“That’s still not good news. According to the prophecy it’s more important than the bolt and I’m not going to save whatever it is.” I pointed out.

Chiron sighed. “I can say no more, Percy. You must choose two people to accompany on your quest. You will leave as soon as you are ready. You only have ten days until the solstice, and you must go to Los Angeles and confront Lord Hades. Grover has already offered to go with, if you will have him.”

“Of course I will.” Grover brightened. I felt better about this quest already if Grover was coming along. I would have somebody I knew and trusted. It would be just like our times at Yancy when we would sneak into the kitchens trying to find any kind of unhealthy food. I wasn't sure what good a satyr could do against the forces of the dead, but I felt better knowing he'd be with me.

I had to admit that I was looking forward to the journey to the Underworld. Hades had a lot to answer for, sending a Fury, Minotaur, and hellhound after me. But I wanted to know why he had kidnapped my mother most of all. And now he might have been responsible for taking the bolt and having Zeus blame me and my father.

I was ready to take him on.

“The other has already volunteered, if you will take her.”

I knew who Chiron was talking about before she even took off her invisibility cap. I wasn’t thrilled about having Annabeth along. Sure, she was smart, but she wasn’t very good at listening. And she was arrogant. I mean, she used me as a distraction and stood by and watched as Ares cabin tried to pummel me. 

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain," she said. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

Forget that. There was no way I was taking this girl with me.

“No.”

“What do you mean no, seaweed brain?” Annabeth screeched, rather like cleaning harpies I had seen in the kitchens. “How do you expect to succeed in this quest without me? You’re not smart enough to get the bolt back.”

“Annabeth!”

“That right there is why you’re not coming.” That shut up both Annabeth and Chiron. “I may not be as smart as a kid of Athena, but I’m not stupid. I don’t need you for this quest. You don’t care about finding the bolt. You just want to go out into the world. If you want that so badly just leave camp and take your chances with real life. You’re not coming with me. And I was smart enough to swear on the Styx and prove my innocence.”

With that snide comment said, leaving the blonde California girl opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish, I turned back to Chiron. “I’ll take Luke, if he wants to come.”

I thought it would be smart to take along an older person. Someone that had already been on a quest and could help me if I was stuck. Luke could certainly do both. Plus, he was talented with a sword and not as arrogant as Annabeth. How’s that for smart, Annie?

“Luke? You want to take Luke with you? He’s already been on a quest! You need to give someone else a chance to go on a quest, seaweed brain!”

“Like you, you mean.” I snapped at her. She was selfish too.

Chiron stopped the growing argument. “It is Percy’s right as leader of the quest to choose who goes with him, Annabeth. If he wishes to take Luke and Grover, than he may. You shall have to wait until the next quest, my dear. Now, Percy, why don’t you run down to Hermes cabin and explain the situation to Luke.”

Directions given, I ran off to inform Luke, still thinking that Chiron ordered campers around like dogs trained to do tricks. I couldn’t help but wonder what type of dog I would be.  Maybe a black lab. That sounded cool. Or a hellhound. It would be cool to be one. It wasn’t so cool to be dinner for one.

Luke answered the knock rather quickly. After I gave him the shortest synopsis I could, one that didn’t involve my oath and the Great Prophecy, he flashed a roguish grin and told me to wait while he packed a bag. 

I’m pretty sure he just grabbed his stuff, because all Hermes campers kept their belongings in bags where they could keep an eye on them. Their cabin was notorious for thieves. 

He came outside, bag on his back, and holding something that looked suspiciously like the keys to the van Argus drove in his hand. He quickly shoved them in a pocket when he caught me staring at them and winked.

I ignored it. Argus wasn’t much of a head of security if his car keys were stolen when he could literally have fifty eyes watching them. Besides, Luke was old enough to know how to drive and could get us to LA in three or four days.

Chiron saw us off, kind of. He didn’t actually watch us leave. He told us good night and said he needed to sleep due to an early morning archery class. Annabeth attempted to plead with Luke to switch and let her come on the quest. For a daughter of Athena, she really wasn’t that bright. Even if Luke did offer to stay behind and let her go, I would just leave her here and go without her. But Luke refused. Their talk devolved into a heated fight, at the end of which Annabeth stormed out of the Big House. 

The three of us snuck passed Argus, a feat that deserved a medal of some sort. Maybe I should consider a career as a spy if this quest doesn’t pan out. We rolled the camp van close to a mile away before actually getting in and starting it. Luke didn’t want anyone to hear it and turn us in. Apparently, quest had to be completed on the participant’s own merits. So help from camp, even in the form of a vehicle, was out of the question.

Good thing I never like following the rules anyway. 


	4. A Fight a Traveling Circus

 

There were two possible explanations for how Luke managed to cross over half the United States in less than a day.

One: the Son of Hermes was a speed junkie that took advantage of the roads as was his right as the son of the god of travelers. Or two: the camp van was a magical car much like the magic baseball cap Annabeth owned, only it was as fast a Superman instead of being able to turn invisible. If it was one, I was finding a different ride back to New York. If it was two, not only was this the coolest car ever, even better than my dream Maserati, but it went a long way to explain why they never let campers use it on quests. Once we returned to camp, I was going to beg Luke to teach me to drive.

It was kind of weird really. Just because we were demigods didn’t mean we had to set off on quests on foot with only a small pack and the best wishes of the villagers that were already preparing your funeral because you wouldn’t be returning alive. But, seriously, it was the twenty-first century. Why would they walk when cars were available?

I had rather stupidly, in afterthought anyway, suggested we catch a plane. Grover had bleated loudly.

“You can’t do that, Percy! Lord Zeus would knock you out of the sky. Didn’t you ever wonder why your mother never took you on a plane?”

I honestly thought it was because her parents had died in a plane crash. I never would have thought that it was because I was the son of the Poseidon and that I had a territorial uncle that didn’t want other demigods in his territory. Wait a minute, how did Grover know that I had never been on a plane? Just how well did he know my mother?

I had to forget that for the time being as Luke asked me to repeat the prophecy. I was actually surprised at my ability to recall the entire prophecy. As evidenced by my report cards, remembering was not a talent of mine. I suppose school just wasn’t important enough.

“Well, the second half sounds nasty,” Luke was interrupted.

“See!” I exclaimed, raising my hands, “Luke agrees with me. It’s not a nice prophecy at all.”

“But I find the first half troublesome. The prophecy clearly refers to Hades. He’s the only god in the west and the only one shunned by the rest of Olympus. He’s only allowed on Olympus one day a year, on the winter solstice. He couldn’t have taken the bolt himself.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Gods can’t steal other gods symbols of power. They can only act through demigods. They need us, not that they treat us like more than disposable soldiers.” The last part was muttered by I caught the bitterness in Luke’s tone. Apparently he wasn’t too fond of the gods. Not that I could blame them. My brief meeting with them hadn’t endeared me to any of them except my father.

“And Hades, surprisingly, has no children. He’s the only one to not break the oath, which is rather ironic since his brothers forced him to make it. So, he couldn’t have had someone take the bolt for him. I don’t know what he has to do with this quest.”

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

So Luke wasn’t as much help as I had been hoping. He couldn’t tell me any more about the prophecy. He didn’t talk much after that discussion. I had pointed out that Hades could have bribed any other demigod to do his dirty work for him and got a ‘shut up now’ glare that promised extra sword lessons if I didn’t. I was already positive that he lessons had left me permanently bruised. After that, his blue eyes were glued to the road.

Beyond knowing that the entrance to the Underworld was in Los Angeles, Luke didn’t know its exact location or how to get in.

 I tried to think about the heroes that had succeeded in returning from the Underworld, only to realize that I didn’t know any stories in which that happened.

I blamed my ADHD, telling myself that there were legends in which heroes walked out of Hades’ realm, and that I would know them if I had paid any attention to Chiron when he was at Yancy. Optimism had never been my strong suit, and currently my gut agreed.

However, Luke did say it was most likely that we wouldn’t be coming back out.

It was a comforting thought. It tried not to dwell on it because the prophecy did say I would see the bolt safely returned to Lord Zeus who was in the middle of a temper tantrum if the storm overhead was anything to go by.

He could also be trying to make sure that I failed my quest so that he could kill me for talking to him as I did.

Grover was mumbling to himself about humans and pollution and cars and the disappearing wild. I also caught enchiladas and Pam, so I was pretty sure that he was asleep. But I decided that goat boy had the best idea. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window.

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

I will warn you now, never sleep in a car. The shaky legs when you finally stand, the cramped and aching muscles in your back from sleeping slouch in a seat and restricted by the seat belt, and feeling like you never got any sleep sucks.

Luke had been forced to stop on a deserted desert highway. I had thought it highly suspicious that a magical van with unending gas, which explained why the Son of Hermes had been able to drive so fast and was now officially the coolest magical item he had ever seen (imagining never having to pay for gas!) had found itself running on fumes.

Grover took it as a sign from Pan, that he was reaching out from wherever the god of goats hides to stop humans from putting excess carbon dioxide into the air. Then he had run off down the road towards the run down gas station. I hoped he was going to ask for help and not because of their buy one enchilada get a free coffee deal.

He had only been gone two minutes when it started.

The sky, which had been as blue as the ocean and clearer than I ever saw it in Manhattan, was painted black in seconds as dark thunder clouds rolled in.  The sky opened and down poured. Luke went for cover in the van. The rain didn’t bother me at all, seeing as I didn’t get wet. A perk of being Poseidon’s kid. I could stand in the rain for hours and never get sick.

But never mind that. While the ability to never get wet was cool, and would surely come in handy in case the Stoll brothers ever tried to dump a bucket of water on my head, I was more concerned by the storm.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m not a weather expert. My little knowledge about it comes from science and geography classes, which I failed because apparently Greenland does not mean green rolling hills, but I was certain that freak storms like this one were not common.

The rain fell harder and faster. Thundered rolled and the sky flashed as lighting struck in the distance. If not for the rain, I’m pretty sure that would have started a brush fire. The storm reminded of the night I first arrived at camp. That storm had come unexpectedly too, caused by Zeus, and I would bet Smelly Gabe a hundred dollars that he was behind this one too.

The lightning struck even closer, only feet away from me. “Percy, you idiot, get in the van!” Luke stepped out of his safety and yanked me towards the van. I got in with no extra prompting and the blonde team promptly floored it.

Luke jerked the steering wheel when a bolt of lightning hit the road in front of them. Cursing in Greek he hit the brakes, causing the vehicle to skid. “Damn it, Zeus.”

“Zeus?”

Luke gave me a dry look. “Gods aren’t supposed to interfere with quests, unless asked for help. Of course, that doesn’t stop them. Picking and choosing which rules they follow. The gods are worthless hypocrites.”

I glanced uneasily at Luke. There was so much bitterness and resentment. What on earth had happened to make him hate the gods. They’re family.

‘Then again,’ I thought, thinking back to the Lord of the Sky’s quick accusations, stubbornness, and overall bad attitude, ‘I can see why it’s hard to get along with some of them. ‘

Grover all but jumped into the van as soon as we pulled up at the gas. Turns out it was abandoned. “Lord Zeus isn’t very happy.”

“You mean he isn’t always like this? I thought that the guy didn’t know the meaning of chill pill.”

Grover didn’t share my sense of humor, and judging by the thunder which rumbled more dangerously, neither did my friend upstairs. Or maybe it was frienemy. It wasn’t like I particularly liked Zeus, not after the asshole he had made himself out to be when I met him, but it would not be a good idea to get on his bad side. I wanted to live to sixteen and get my driver’s license.

Unfortunately, that thought reminded of the damn prophecy that got me into this mess. Stupid mummies. They were bad news in the movies and they were worse in real life. They shouldn’t be able to walk, talk, and kill, let alone ruin my life by predicting that I would either save the world or destroy it.

That was also when I remembered that I did not tell Zeus about me receiving the doomsday message, which guaranteed that he would see me dead for not telling him if he didn’t kill me for not stealing his lightning bolt. I wondered how he was still shooting lightning at me if he didn’t have it. Do they make spares for that sort of thing? Where would you have to go to get spare lightning bolts?

“Can you go any faster, Luke?” Grover asked, bleating nervously.

“Why?” I was startled. I mean, yeah, Zeus was acting a little spark happy, but he couldn’t actually kill me before I finished, or didn’t finish as it may be, could he? “We still have thirteen days to get to LA, convince Hades to give back the bolt, and get back to New York.”

“Lord Zeus is trying to make this as difficult as possible for you, Perce. I just think that we should hurry so that there is no chance of missing the deadline.”

Touching as it was that Grover didn’t want to see me dead, probably the only other person besides Chiron and my dad at the moment, “He swore on the Styx. He can’t kill me unless I don’t return with his bolt. So there’s no need to worry G-man.”

The satyr glared at me, obviously not agreeing.

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

I suppose I should take the time now to say that Grover was right and I was wrong. Really wrong. Like when playing Clue and you guess that the murderer was Mr. Green with the candlestick in the Dining Room and it turns out to be Mrs. White in the kitchen with the knife.

I was completely wrong. There was totally something to worry about. And I blamed Hermes.

Apparently, the messenger of the gods did not give Hades the memo that I wasn’t responsible and the god of the dead decided to send an army of monsters after me.

Despite the ever constant rain, Grover had sniffed them two hours ago. He had said this was the largest gathering of monsters he had since I don’t actually know when because he shut up quickly after a harsh glare from Luke. However, I didn’t have time to think about the secrets that Luke and Grover were hiding from me, because there was an army of monsters after my blood chasing us down the highway.

I had said that Luke should turn around and turn them into road kill. I got a glare for that too.

Instead Grover and I pushed down the back seat, allowing me to lurch into the back of the van and throw upon the doors.

I wanted to close them almost immediately after seeing the battalion of monsters with sharp claws, fangs, wings, and battle axes.

There was no way I was going to be able to fight them with my sword, unless I wanted to throw it like a dart and wait for it to come back. Even if they were close enough I don’t think I would have been able to keep my footing with the way Luke was driving. I made me wonder if he actually knew how to drive and if I should be reconsidering asking him to teach me.

Luke hit something in the road, causing the whole van to rock. I was knocked on my back. Stumbling back to my feet I saw the body of a disintegrating mix of a rooster and a horse. It was the weirdest sight I had ever seen.

I stumbled back to my feet. Feeling more than a little foolish, I held both arms out in front of me, thinking about shooting a jet of water from my palms, kind of like the hoses a firefighter uses. The stream of water slammed into the monsters in the forefront of the catch and kill Percy race. It sent them sprawling and caused others behind them to trip. Soon enough there was a pile up of monsters on the road.

It didn’t kill any. Or stop the ones flying overhead. Or keep other monsters from going over or around the dog pile in the middle of the highway. 

I watched dismayed as they continued to pursue us. My attack wasn’t strong enough to kill them and I didn’t have the skill to take them down with a sword. Never mind the fact that it would be suicide to fight 1 versus 100.

But how do you kill with water? I mean, I know people drown, but how do you drown a horde of monsters in the desert?

A brilliant idea came to me. I started with the harpies, vampirish looking things, and whatever else was flying. I concentrated on created a bubble of water, trapping them inside. They thrashed and gurgled as they tried to scream, but quickly turned to dust.

I grinned, immediately turning my killer bubble on another group of monsters. After the sixth time the monsters got the hint. They stopped running. I watched them grow smaller in the distance feeling very smug and proud of myself. My second encounter with monsters, and this time I escaped uninjured.

I closed the doors, put the back seat back up, and climbed over it. Leaning forward, my head between Luke’s and Grover’s, I gave Grover a noogie. “See, nothing to worry about.”

Grover open mouthed gaped at me. Luke gave me surprised looks from the corner of his eyes.

A sign on the road flashed by. LAS VEGAS 146 MILES.

“So, what happened last time, Grover?”

The happy mood plummeted. Grover stiffened in his seat. Luke’s grip on the steering wheel turned white from how hard he was gripping it. Grover looked anxiously between me and Luke, and with the smallest of nods from Luke, began the story of his first mission to bring a half blood to camp.


	5. I am the god of Supremely Unlucky Demigods

 

Grover’s story was depressing. It made me regretted that I had asked. Being the kind of guy who jumps with both feet without looking, that was kind of a hard thing to do. I normally didn’t care about the havoc I unwittingly caused unless it hurt my mom. Other than that, there was no limit to my stupidity, which I would freely admit only to myself.

Zues knows what Annabelle, which is what I was going to call her from now on seeing as she annoyed me, would do if she heard me admitting my lack of knowledge.

It turns out that Grover’s luck is nearly as horrible as mine. Although I was still the crowned King of Nasty Luck. 

Grover had unwittingly stumbled across three demigods. Thalia Grace was the first child of the Big Three that he had come across. She had run away when she was only nine. She had met up with Luke, and together they hunted down monsters. That lasted until they had come across seven year old Annabeth Chase hiding under a sheet of corrugated iron. I nearly interrupted to ask what that was but Grover kept talking before I could. 

I imagined that her insane hero worship of Luke came to be when he gave her that dagger she was fond of.

Grover was supposed to lead Thalia to camp, but she refused to go without Luke and Annabeth. Not soon after the satyr had joined the group, Hades had learned of his niece’s existence and literally set all the monsters in the Underworld on her. 

Grover bitterly admitted that in his nervousness he made many wrong turns and even led them into a Cyclopes’ cave, which allowed the monsters they had evaded for so long to catch up. Thalia had stayed behind to fight the horde of ugly beasts while he got Luke and Annabeth safely inside the camp’s borders.

Ultimately, Thalia had been gravely injured and her father turned her into the pine tree that stood on the hill, Annabeth grew to be a spoiled know-it-all brat, Luke threw himself into learning how to fight, and Grover got demoted. It was the worst story ending I had ever heard. I fervently hoped that Poseidon would let me die and not turn me into a bed or kelp.

“Why didn’t you stay and fight?” I asked Luke, who had not said a word as Grover retold his first protector’s mission. I had seen Luke’s skill with a sword. If he had stayed behind with Thalia they might have all made it to camp.

Luke clutched the steering wheel so tightly I thought it would break beneath his hands. His jaw tightened. “I wanted to.” He said lowly. He clearly thought they could have won too.“But she made me promise to look after Annabeth. Threatened to hit me with a bolt of lightning if I didn’t grab her and follow Grover.” A small smile formed. “Thalia wasn’t one you fought with. She always won.”

I could believe that. Girls were stubborn that way. It reminded me of my mother. She never failed to get me to do what she wanted, when she wanted it done. Although it was entirely plausible that it was more because I was a momma’s boy and not because she was one of those tough as nails people that didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’.

I, however, did understand the word ‘no’. It was my favorite word. Particularly when I had said it to Annabeth. I don’t think anyone had ever told her no before. The look on her face had been so funny.

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

We stopped for the night in Las Vegas. Luke pulled into the first hotel/casino he found. The Lotus Hotel and Casino was packed. And loud. And very, very colorful. Almost like they couldn’t decide on a color scheme so a rainbow had thrown up all over the interior.

One step inside the Casino, in which we were greeted with plastic cards with lots of money, and I had the greatest idea.

“Hey guys. What do you think about staying a couple of hours?”

I had caught a quick glimpse of the many games on the casino floor as Luke rushed us through the lobby and up to our prepared room. I knew we were working on a deadline, but this was my one chance to prove that I could gamble better than Smelly Gabe. He had the worst poker face I had ever seen. He only won because his buddies were piss frightened of him. I wanted to go home after this quest and gloat about all that I had won in a casino.

Besides, we had ten days still. That was plenty of time to get to Hollywood and find the Underworld, convince Hades to hand over the bolt, and get it back to my prickly uncle.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take a lot of begging to convince Grover and Luke that a couple hours of downtime were needed. That should have been my first clue. But I was so focused on deciding which game to try first. 

The Lotus Casino was the coolest place I had ever been. The staff circled the floor, offering up a tray of the best cookies I had ever eaten. I took a handful every time a waiter walked by and stuffed my mouth so that I resembled a chipmunk. 

Luke was playing one of those fighting games, the ones where you battle your opponent for three rounds. None of his challengers ever made it to round three. Even in a virtual video game, Luke kicked ass. 

Grover had tried his hand at DDR. It lasted for one song before his fake feet popped off and revealed his hooves, which thankfully nobody noticed. Then he found a reversed hunting game and spent the rest of the night being a deer that hunted humans and screaming about how the wild would get its revenge on the nasty, dirty, polluting humans.

I on the other hand went straight for the indoors water park, which had some of the coolest water rides I had ever seen. Grinning and whooping I would shoot out of tubes much faster than anyone else, taking advantage over my abilities as son of the sea god. 

I challenged a short black haired, kinda creepy kid all dressed in black to a game of ping pong. I left after one match because he wouldn’t stop talking about some Mythomagic game that his sister never let him play.

It was so much fun that I nearly forgot all about my quest. I was only reminded of it when I found a movie theatre that was playing Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I walked in on the scene where it zooms in on the baby’s lightning bolt scar. 

I cursed violently. How could I forget the death threat that hung over my head if I did not return Zeus’s master bolt?

I pushed my way through a crowd off people, finally taking in the weird styles that everyone was wearing. There was a guy in bellbottoms and tie-dye with an afro. A woman who dressed like she belonged in the twenties, with her hair piled really tall on her head. 

I cursed again. I was usually more observant than this. It came with ADHD. I found Luke, who still hadn’t left his role play fighting game, and dragged him away. It was pointless until he jammed his elbow into my eye and I cursed like a sailor. (It was probably instinctive knowledge from Poseidon.)

“Percy? What are you doing? What happened to your eye?” I glared at him.

“We need to find Grover and get out of here.” 

“But you’re the one that wanted to stay.”

“Yeah, well, now I want to unstay. There are people here from a hundred years ago.” I snapped.

“Unstayed?”

“Shut up, Luke, and help me find Grover.”

It was much easier for the two of us to pull Grover away from his game. The casino was not so easy to leave. A group of bellboys blocked our exit as soon as they realized we were aiming for the doors. They threw platinum cards at, promising unlimited money, and said that a new game room was being built and would we stay just until it was finished.

I don’t know who they thought they were fooling, but it sure as hell wasn’t me. I was getting out of this casino before Zeus found me.

I did however take the shiny, silver, platinum card. After all the trouble they put me through, I felt it was the least I deserved. 

“I should have known,” Luke growled as he peeled out of the Lotus Casino’s flashing parking lot, pushing the pedal to the floor and getting the hell out of dodge, or Las Vegas as it was.

“Known what?”

“The casino is a trap for the Lotus-Eaters. They were a race of people from an island near North Africa, filled with lotus plants. The plants are narcotic and addictive, causing people to sleep in peaceful apathy. Those that ate the lotus plant lost all their will and memory. They lure people in and trap them by offering them food containing part of the lotus plant. They feed off of positive emotions.”

I should have been highly disturbed that I had nearly been tricked into staying at a casino run by monsters. And I was. I did not want to be trapped there, never aging and playing video games all day, even if that was every boy’s dream. Instead I could only think it was unfair that I had to learn all this demigod, Greek, monster, myth, history from Annabeth who lectured like a teacher from Yancy.

Luke pulled into a gas station to refill the van. I took my platinum card and bought a bunch of soda and snacks for me and Luke. Camp Half-Blood was of the opinion that healthy eating made stronger demigods. And it wasn’t like their food was great, because it was delicious. But they didn’t allow candy, sugar, or soda.

They Stoll brothers snuck them in anyway and trade chores, favors, the best slots for activities for them. It was a price worth paying.

Grover glared balefully at me as I deposited my stash on the counter to be rung up. Then he saw the coffee and enchiladas and threw a dozen of them in with my food. The cashier gave us an odd look, but rang us up anyway. I swiped the platinum card from the casino, praying to whatever god this fell under that there really was money on it and it could be used outside the casino.

It went through no problem. It was only hours later when we stopped at the next gas station that I realized neither Luke nor I had paid for the gas.

I guess it didn’t really matter. Hermes was a god of thieves.

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

We finally made it to Hollywood. I picked up the nearest magazine. I had always enjoyed laughing at celebrities because they were so stupid and the gossip was often interesting. 

I ended up choking and sputtering on my pretzel when I read the date. We had made great time across the country, the reason why I thought it was a brilliant idea to stay at the casino longer. When we had left camp we had had ten days to retrieve the master bolt. According to _People_ magazine it was June 20 and I only had one.

I really was the unluckiest person in the world.

I suppose it was a good thing that Chiron had already told us where exactly to find the entrance to the Underworld.

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

We left the van behind, standing at the base of the giant ‘D’ in the famous Hollywood sign. There was somebody leaning against it. He wore army pants, clunky heavy metal boots, a studded leather jacket, and a pair of sunglasses. He was bald and was smoking and reminded me an awful lot of Smelly Gabe. The guy reeked of cigarettes.

Luke bowed his head. “Lord Ares.”

Just when I thought my luck couldn’t get any worse. I had learned quickly in my short time as a demigod that a meeting with a god was bad news.

He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, releasing a cloud of smoke. “I got a favor to ask you, kid.”

I knew he was talking to me. And I knew that the following conversation wasn’t going to be pretty.

Tykhe must hate me for some reason. The goddess of luck had cursed me.


	6. We Walk into a Trap

It’s comforting to know that the gods actually exist. Then, when something goes wrong, I know exactly who to blame. And I mean catastrophically wrong like a ship’s engine exploding and not the dog ate my homework wrong.

I should have known better than to accept Ares’s quest. I was already Styx deep in a quest for Zeus, who was probably already lovingly fingering his lightning bolt and taking aim.

Or he would be. If he had it. Which he doesn’t currently, and might not ever because I wasn’t going to find the bolt never mind return it before the end of the day because of one stupid god. 

The next time your parents offer to take you to a museum displaying life sized models ancient Greek and Roman battles, suggest you take a vacation elsewhere. Somewhere like Maine, where nothing bad ever happens. Or go to the library. Much better to read about these things than to see them in real life.

Given how my last trip to a museum ended, I should have refused from the start. I swore I was never going to step foot in another museum again. They were crawling with monsters out to get me.

There was an echoing clang as I knocked over a suit of Roman armor. Well, slammed head on into it really. I scrambled to disentangle myself from the heavy gold breastplate and tower shield. A cacophony of hisses followed me around the corner. A dozen of twenty foot long snakes slithered into sight, spitting fire. 

The fire didn’t really hurt. It was more like the one time I spent all day on the beach but forgot to wear sunblock like my mom told me turn and got a really bad case of sunburn that made me look like a shiny red human lobster. Perk of being a son of Poseidon; we’re rather hard to burn alive. 

The downside to being a son of Poseidon? I was a monsters’ favorite snack.

Grover, Luke, and I thought doing a favor for Ares would be really easy. I mean, he’s all brawn and no brains so he couldn’t have anything difficult in mind for us. 

He told us to go to Natural History Museum of Los Angeles. Apparently Ares was forced to leave behind his favorite poisoned spear (“It’s imbued with venom from Ladon, punk.” Was Ares excuse for why he was making us fetch it now. Luke had turned white at the mention of Ladon.)  It just so happened to be the largest museum in the city, so getting in, grabbing Ares’s toy, and getting out unseen would not be easy.

Grover suggested that we hide in the bathroom until the museum closed. I had already proved my mastery over plumbing once and felt no desire to hide in a public restroom for hours. Besides, we were on a time limit and I don’t think Zeus would accept “I was in the bathroom” as a good excuse for not returning his bolt. My teachers never did.

I had voted that we just grabbed the spear and run. We were bringing the spear back to Ares outside the entrance to the Underworld, so I don’t think any guard would find us.

Luke overruled both of us. He ran off to create a distraction so Grover and I could snatch Ares’s favorite weapon.

As I ran through crowds of screaming tourist, I vowed to never let the son of Hermes be in charge of diversions again. I just don’t see how sicing a nest of poisonous snakes the size of trees on us was helping. 

I turned and aimlessly swung Riptide behind me. A snake shrieked as I stabbed its eye out.

“Watch out, Percy!”

I threw myself to the ground and rolled. I popped back up to see the tiles I had been standing on seconds ago melt. I ran for Luke, who had shouted the warning.

“This is all your fault!”

“C’mon, Percy. It was just a nest of basilisks. They should be a piece of cake after the Minotaur and a Fury.”

“A basilisk! Like a Harry Potter you’re dead if you look them in the eye basilisk! And you woke up six of them!”

“Kid, you really need to sit down and learn what are myths blown out of proportion and what’s real. Meeting a basilisk’s gaze doesn’t kill you. It’s the venom and fire you need to watch out for.” He shoved my head down and a stream of flames seared above us. 

“Just keep running! Where’s Grover?” 

“Here! Baaahh.” 

I caught site of Grover. He had the spear, thank Zeus. If none of us had gotten it I was going to drown Luke and feed him to the fishes. 

I followed Luke through the fire escape door that Grover held open. The son of Hermes cut off the head of a basilisk that tried to wedge itself between the door and I got a mouthful of monster dust. And I had thought cafeteria food was bad.

The three of us scrambled up the rickety fire escape that was probably as old as the artifacts the museum had on display. We lay down on the roof of the museum to catch our breath, listening to the sounds of panicking mortals.

“So,” Grover muttered, “how do we get down?”

“Preferably without getting arrested.” I added.

“I’ll fly us over to the next building. We can climb down from there and get this back to Ares.” 

The blonde stood, instructing us to grab onto his arms. With a shout of “Maia!” his sneakers sprouted wings and we jerkily launched into the air. A graceless landing on top of Crusty’s Waterbed Palace, ten minutes to get Grover’s hoof out a fire escape platform, and a smelly cab ride later, and we were bowing in front of Lord Ares.

“Back faster than I expected.” He strapped the spear to his back, for a second it seemed to shimmer and looked like a rifle. “The basilisks were a nice touch. I’m sure they got rid of a few puny humans.”

My blood boiled as he said it was a dog eats dog world where only the fittest survive. What was amusing about the deaths of innocent people? My fists clenched. I wished that I could uncap Riptide and stick him like a pig.

“Well, I promised to tell you the entrance to the Underworld. It’s under the Dead On Arrival Recording Studios. The official one anyway. The back door is here behind the Hollywood sign.”

“Official?” I interrupted. “You mean to tell me that people try to illegally enter hell?”

Fires burned in his eyes as he turned to look at me. Literally. Red flames. I suddenly saw myself dying in horrible ways. 

“This entrance is for dumb heroes that think they’ll be the first to get out of Hades’ realm alive. Demigods on pointless quests that think they stand a better chance of succeeding by sneaking in instead of going through the official entrance.”

Was he trying to say he thought we were going to die? Or was he giving us a warning to take the scheduled tour?

“Not that my uncle doesn’t know about everything that happens in his kingdom. The living that enter can’t mask the fact that their alive and Hades can sense that. If you reach him it’ll be because he wants a word with you.”

Luke politely thanked Ares through gritted teeth. The god of war handed him a red backpack filled with both mortal money and a handful of drachma, and a dozen packets of military rations. It was oddly nice for the god that threatened to turn me into a pig and roast me when I said I wanted nothing to do with his quest.

Luke accepted the backpack without a word and shoved me and Grover through the tunnel that formed by crumbling in on itself. 

The entrance closed as soon as we walked through, throwing us into darkness. Next to me, Grover bleated nervously. “C’mon, man,” I urged him, dragging him forward by the arm.

Not even seconds later we found ourselves standing in a field of golden wheat. 

Imagine a wheat field in Kansas, so large that it stretches on to the horizon every way you look. Then imagine what it would look like if it was growing in an underground cavern with an occasional black tree-“Poplars!” Grover informed me.

If you pictured that, you still don’t know what it feels like to stand in the Fields of Asphodel. Shoots of wheat withered and blackened under the feet of hundreds of thousands of dead souls and the air smelled more like it belonged in a swamp than Kansas. 

Grover, Luke and I tried to blend in with the dead, attempting to avoid the security ghouls that walked around the Fields of Asphodel. It was kind of hard to do when flowers bloomed in Grover’s hoofsteps. 

We reached the border and I was disappointed to find that the Fields of Asphodel weren’t actually inside the gates of hell. Apparently the Fields is for those people that either don’t want to be judged or for those that lead uncomplicated, boring, normal lives. Up until Zeus threatened to kill me, I probably would have been destined for the Fields of Asphodel.

Inside the gates to hell, which oddly enough resembled toll gates on a highway, was Elysium, the Fields of Punishment, and the Isles of the Blest.

Elysium, which seemed to be the only happy place in the Underworld, was a gated community full of laughter and barbecues. The Isles of the Blest were three islands in the middle of a gorgeous, glittering blue lake, like a vacation resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three times, and three times achieved Elysium. Immediately I knew that’s where I wanted to go when I died.

However, there weren’t many people Elysium. There were more people in the Fields of Punishment. It was depressing how few people did good in their lives.

“Let’s go this way,” Luke said, pointing to a tunnel to the side of the EZ-Death line that twisted around to pour people into the Asphodel Fields.

We walked a few miles through the tunnel. It slowly morphed from black grass to rock. The further down we got the more anxious and uneasy I began to feel. Like the sensation that someone is watching you, but every time you turn around no one’s there. 

“Are you sure we shouldn’t search someplace like Elysium? Hades might hide the bolt in a place that isn’t easy to get into.” Grover asked.

“Come on, goat boy.” Luke grabbed his arm, only to yell when the backpack nearly pulled his arm out of its socket.

The backpack dragged Luke down the tunnel, the blonde scrabbling to gain purchase but only scraping his fingers in gravel. Grover and I raced after him. We managed to stop him from being dragged into a pit.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, Percy.” Luke’s voice was weary, his hands bloody, and he was terribly scratched up. His body screamed exhaustion; his eyes fear. The son of Hermes had no idea what had just happened and it terrified him. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait—listen.” A dark whisper was coming from the pit. Enticing me to come forward. I took a step. 

“Oh no you don’t.”  Luke cuffed me around the head, breaking the hold the chant had over me. 

And then we ran as fast as we could back up the tunnel and as far away from the pit as we could get. “What was that place?”

“Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus.” 

Silently we followed the River Styx to Hades’ palace. It was an exact replica of Olympus, carved from black obsidian instead of white marble. But it was just as mesmerizing and beautiful. It made me feel sad for Hades, banned from the wonder that was Olympus all but one day a year. It was obvious that he had tried to recreate his home here in the Underworld. If it wasn’t for the fact that he took Zeus’s bolt and was looking to start a war, I would feel sorry for him, estranged from his family.

The skeletal guards didn’t try to bar us entrance to Hades’ palace, though they probably discouraged girl scouts hoping to sell cookies. 

It was easy to find the Lord of the Dead. His aura affected more than Ares’ had.

Hades was at least ten feet tall, dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder length and jet black. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and as dangerous as a predator.

Simply put, the god radiated power. The power to kill you easily.

“Thank you for bringing me the master bolt, little Lightning Thief.” He drawled.

 


	7. I Street Fight with a god

 

"So you are the Lightning Thief, Percy Jackson. Why did the Styx not kill you?"

I shared confused looks with Grover and Luke. Hadn’t I already proved that I didn’t steal the bolt? That was why I was here, to get it back from Hades.  I opened my mouth, either to deny stealing the Zeus’s shiny toy again or to ask what he was smoking, but that’s not what came out.

"Can the Styx kill a son of Poseidon?" I blurted. “I mean, it can’t drown me, ‘cause I can breathe underwater. And I fell over the edge of a two hundred foot waterfall on my third grade camping trip and it didn’t hurt at all.”

Next to me, Grover bleated into his hands. Hades ignored my rambling. Which, while irking, was probably a good thing. Every time I opened my mouth lately I pissed off a god. I really didn’t need to have the Lord of the Dead out for my head. He could probably kill me as easily as breathing. 

“Give me the bolt, nephew, and your deaths will be painless.”

“Dude, for the last time, I don’t have it. I never did. Didn’t take it. No clue where it is. This is just like that time in kindergarten when Susie accused me of stealing her green crayon.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Gods do not take lightly to being addressed as “dude.” Black fire burned in Hades eyes. “Don’t not think me a fool boy. I can sense my brother’s bolt. You will give it to me or you will never leave my realm.”

I felt that I should have been scared about being locked in Hades’s dungeon. But all I felt was anger. The gods never listened. I could understand why Luke was more than a little upset with them. They were never around, and when they were it was only to demand you do them favors. They squabbled amongst each other like little kids that hated sharing and meddled with demigods’ lives to force them to comply. The god standing before me had given my mother back, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t kidnapped her in the first place. I didn’t even have to know why he needed a bargaining chip. I was going to kill him for touching my mother. 

I uncapped Riptide. 

“Percy!” Grover yelped, looking like he wanted to twist his still covered horns. Or my neck.

“Is that wise, Lightning Thief? If you attack first, there is nothing to stop me from crushing you.”

Luke staid my hand, nearly crushing my wrist. “Don’t Percy. I’m no fan of the gods, but you can’t challenge one to a fight. He’ll kill you.”

Angrily, I sheathed my sword. “Wise choice, nephew. Now hand me the bag and my helm and I’ll have you escorted out, through official channels, this time.”

“Your Helm of Darkness has been stolen, too, Lord Hades?”

The Lord of the Dead gave Grover a withering glare. “As if you didn’t already know. Your friend stole it for his father. Poseidon is the only one still in possession of his symbol of power. This time he will succeed in overthrowing Zeus.”

I sighed, exasperated. Why were the gods still accusing me a being a thief? I only just learned they existed for Zeus’s sake. “Do I have to swear on the Styx that I didn’t steal your hat either?”

Hades paused, almost like he was considering my words. “If you did not, then who did?”

“The real Lightning Thief.”

It was just a suggestion. Maybe a little heavy on the sarcasm because Hades looked angry again.

“Then you have admitted to stealing both the bolt and my helm. You have the bolt with you. Hand them over immediately and I will make it a painless death for lying to me.”

Styx the gods were stubborn. I looked like Hades like he was crazy. And he had to be. Only crazy people didn’t listen to sense. “Give me the bag!” the god demanded. “It is the sheathe for the master bolt. It might be transformed now, but I can sense the bolt’s presence.”

Luke dropped the bag like the supposed bolt of lightning struck him and I snatched it up. I overturned it, spilling its contents of clothes, sunscreen, and Oreos at the god’s feet. “See, no lightning bolts here.”

And then there was a crackle as a bolt of lightning as long as my arm fell out, releasing sparks and scorching the ground. I dropped the bag throwing my hands up. “I don’t know how that got there. That’s not my bag. Ares gave it to us.”

Hades moved to pick it up, and I could hear Mrs. Dodds cackling above us, but the bolt zapped him.

“Of course, the gods cannot take another’s symbol. I must wonder how Ares got a hold of it. Put it back in the bag and give it to me, son of Poseidon.”

Oh, yeah, he was crazy. There was no way I was picking up a bolt lightning. If I even touched it once Zeus would claim I stole and then kill me. “Look, Lord Hades,” I tried to be polite. Because of the Great Prophecy,  all the gods but my dad would be happy to see me dead, and I really didn’t need to add one more to the list of people that would celebrate at my funeral. “I already swore on the Styx I didn’t take the bolt, and seeing as I’m not dead, I must be telling the truth. I don’t know who took your cap,”

“Helm!” Grover hissed.

“Helm,” I corrected, “but I can swear I didn’t. If you let me return the bolt to Zeus, I’ll look for your helm.” I hoped that sounded convincing and sincere, and not like a just wanted to get out of hell.

“Very well, Percy Jackson. I agree.” I scooped up Zeus’s bolt into the backpack. “On one condition.” 

My heart fell through to my stomach. “One of your friends will remain behind. To ensure you come back.”

I swallowed. My mouth was dry. I had to leave behind Luke or Grover. How could I force one of them to stay? I didn’t know who the real thief was. I might never be able to find Hades’s helm. The two of them argued behind me, saying they should be the one to stay behind. But it should be me.

“I’ll stay. Let them go.”

“No, Percy, you can’t!” Grover yelped fearfully. 

“Goat boy’s right, Perce. You have to return the bolt. I’ll stay. If Grover completes this quest with you he gets his searchers license. I’ve lived longer than most demigods. It won’t kill me wait a bit while you find his helm.”

“No way. I’m your protector. I’ll stay. You might need Luke’s skill with a sword. You know I’m useless in a fight.”

“The demigod will stay.” Before I could protest Hades had his skeleton soldiers drag Luke away.

“Go!” He shouted. “I’ll visit with the dead heroes. I’ll be fine. GO!”

I didn’t want to, but what other choice did we have. Grover and I let more skeletons lead us up and out of the Underworld. They shoved us out of the Dead on Arrival studios, where I blinked rapidly at the sun’s unexpected brightness. 

“Come on, Percy,” Grover tugged on my shirt. “We need to get moving. It’s a three days train ride to New York.”

“We don’t have three days. The solstice is tomorrow. I think we need to get on a plane.”

“You can’t. Zeus will kill you if you literally fly through his domain.”

I shook my head, disagreeing. “I’ve got his bolt now. He wouldn’t risk shooting me out of the sky.” I tried to sound confident, because I honestly thought he wouldn’t give a damn. Apparently it worked, because Grover groaned.

“You won’t even make it to the airport.”

We both whirled at the sound of Ares’s voice. The god of War was leaning against his bike. “Wouldn’t the bolt get flagged by security?”

“Percy, flying was your idea.”

“I know, I know, it just occurred to me that a lightning bolt would totally cause a scene when they scan luggage, and then we’d get arrested for being terrorists and we’d never make the deadline.” That’s when my ADHD made the connection. 

“It was you.” The god raised a dark eyebrow mockingly. “You stole the bolt. You’re the Lightning Thief.” Ares laughed so hard he needed the support of his motorcycle to keep standing. 

“Punk, I didn’t take my dad’s master bolt. I’m not stupid. He exiled Dionysus to watch you brats for a century for chasing a tree nymph that was off limits. And she was off limits because he was interested in her.” He tapped his aluminum baseball bat into his hand. “You were supposed to die.”

I blinked at the change in topic. “You tricked me. _You_ stole the helm and the master bolt. The prophecy was right. We faced the god in the west, but Hades wasn’t the thief.”

Ares grinned. “Well, now, I didn’t steal them personally. Gods taking each other’s symbols of power—that’s a big no-no. But you’re not the only hero in the world who can run errands.”

“Who did you use?” Grover asked. “Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice.”

The idea seemed to amuse him. “Doesn’t matter. The point is, you’re impeding the war effort. If you had died in the Underworld, Old Seaweed would have been mad at Hades for killing you, Corpse Breath would have had Zeus’s master bolt, so Zeus’d be mad at him, not to mention Hades is still looking for this . . .”

From his pocket he took out a ski cap—the kind bank robbers wear—and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

“The helm of darkness,” Grover gasped. 

“Exactly,” Ares said. “Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon because he doesn’t know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going.”

“But they’re your family!” I protested. 

Ares shrugged. “Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest.”

His carefree attitude made me see red. Although that could have been him using his powers to make me angry. A war amongst the gods, all for his amusement. I pulled my sword out of my pocket and charged. 

“Percy, don’t!” It was too late. Ares snapped his fingers. The dirt exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than the one whose head hung above the door of cabin seven at Camp Half-Blood.

I pulled back as the beast snuffed and pawed at the ground, already lowering its tusks. “Fight me yourself Ares.”

The god snorted. “Sorry kid, you’re not at my level. You’re all talk and no fight. You ran away from monsters. You ran from Hades.”

The boar charged. I ignored Grover’s warning to run. I was done running. From monsters, from Ares, from anybody. 

As the boar ran towards me it began to rain. I sidestepped the beast, its severed tusk fell right at my feet while the disoriented animal staggered into a building. I was going to have to finish this quick. We were in the heart of L.A. Even with the rain and the Mist, I didn’t want to risk innocent bystanders getting hurt. If Ares had no qualms about restarting the Trojan War, he wouldn’t have any about mortals that tried to intervene.

“Are you going to fight me now?” I asked. “Or are you going to hide behind another pet pig?”

Ares face turned purple with rage. He raised his baseball bat, which turned into a giant two handed sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

“If I lose, turn me into anything you want.” It seemed to be a favorite threat of the gods, turning demigods into animals. “Take the bolt. If I win, the bolt and helm are mine and _you_ have to go away.”

Ares sneered. “I’ve been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?”

‘A smaller ego.’ I thought. ‘And some unlimited strength and stamina of my own.’ Ares didn’t seem to have noticed the rain, but I did. I was in my element. The rain gave me strength, and as long as it was raining, I stood a chance. 

He cleaved downward at my head. My body thought for me, like the night I fought the Minotaur, and I catapulted over his head, slashing as I came down. Ares was just as quick, twisting to block the strike that would have caught him directly in the spine.

“Not bad, not bad.” He slashed again and I was forced to step back. I tried to get around him, uncomfortable with him standing between me and Grover, but his sword had a reach several feet longer than Anaklusmos. 

_Get in close,_ Luke had told me once, back in our sword class. _When you’ve got the shorted blade, get in close._

I stepped inside with a thrust. Ares was waiting for me. He knocked my blade out of my hands and kicked me in the chest. I went airborne—twenty, maybe thirty feet. I would have broken my neck if not for the rain softening the ground into mud. 

When I stood I was seeing double. My chest felt like it had been hit with a battering ram. I rolled to one side as Ares’s blade slashed into the mud. I came out of my roll, sword in hand, swinging at his face. 

Once again he deflected me. Ares seemed to know exactly what I was going to do the moment before I did it. My ADHD was on high alert, taking in all the little tells Ares had that let me know when he was going to strike and which way.

The rain fell even harder. If Poseidon hadn’t been my father, I wouldn’t have been able to see my hand in front of my face. Ares came toward, grinning confidently.

I thought of the time with the bathrooms, when I had unknowingly caused the toilet water to burst and hit Clarisse in the face. There weren’t any pipes her, but the storm drain might work. I back toward the street, lowering my blade like I was fatigued. 

Ares followed. I concentrated on the water pouring through the metal grill, and felt a familiar pull in my gut as it responded to my wishes. Ares raised his sword. I released the sewer water and jumped, rocketing right over Ares.

A six foot wall of diry water smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of sludge. I landed behind him, feinted an attack towards his head. Before it had failed, but this time he was disoriented. He didn’t anticipate the change in direction and Riptide stabbed at an angle through his ankle, the point emerging from the god’s heel.

The roar that followed made the Great San Francisco Earthquake look like a minor event. Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god’s boot. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he had been wounded. 

He limped toward me, muttering in Ancient Greek, no doubt about to renege on our deal and turn me into a cockroach. Something stopped him.

Sound and colored drained away. The rain slowed. A cold, heavy presence passed over, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making me feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless. 

The darkness lifted, taking the rain with it. Ares looked stunned. He lowered his sword. “You have made an enemy, godling,” he told me. “You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise you blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware.”

Ares limped towards his biked. It roared to life beneath him and he thundered down the street. 

I turned to Grover, who was staring at me in a mixture of amazement and fright. “You were just cursed by a god. Ares is going to kill you.”

It wasn’t remotely funny, but I laughed. “Half the gods want to kill me anyway. What’s one more? Now what’s say we give this ski cap back to Uncle Hades, kick Luke’s butt into gear, and get on the first plane to New York City?”


	8. I Call in a Favor

 

Unbelievable as it was, Grover and I went back to the Underworld. Our second trip through hell was much easier. Just flash a black wooly ski cap slash black metal helmet at the dead guards and they waive you right through security.

And as I was coming to expect of the gods, Hades did not offer any thanks for my recovering his precious Helm of Darkness. 

He actually threatened to unleash all the monsters of Tartarus on me should I try again, and both Luke and Grover glared at him, remembering when he had done just that to Thalia. 

My hand had leapt to my pants pocket where Riptide was. I may have said something rude back to him and made another Olympian hate me. It brought me up to a grand total of four godly enemies. I was aiming to have at least half of them hate me before the summer was over. 

“I can’t believe you threatened Lord Hades,” Grover bleated as the three of them boarded the plane at Long Beach airport. The Mist worked wonders, disguise Zeus’s toy lightning bolt as a golf club. 

“Come on G-man,” I complained. “He deserved it. I told him I didn’t have anything to do with taking his ski cap of shadows,”

“Helm of Darkness,” the satyr corrected.

“but he still blamed me and promised to sic monsters on me if I did it again.” I kept talking, ignoring Grover. “The gods are completely unfair.”

Luke snorted loudly next to me. “The gods will never change. They’re all selfish, only concerned about their survival. With no one to believe in them they would fade. They have children so they’ll keep living. It’s hard not to believe in them when you’re being chased by hellhounds or trapped by Cyclopes. If it wasn’t for demigods, the gods would have died long ago. But not one of them cares for the dangers they force on us.”

It wasn’t hard to understand Luke’s bitterness. In the three weeks since I had discovered my father was a god I had been attacked by the Minotaur, my mom was kidnapped by Hades (I can’t believe I forgot to give him hell for that stunt), I was accused of stealing two gods’ symbols of power, fought a third one, and the fourth one hates all demigods, was chased down a highway by a legion of monsters, trapped in a casino where time moves slower, and learned that I will either save the world or destroy it.

It was a lot to take in, all because the gods were real.  And it wasn’t like the gods had done anything to make me like them. They were always insulting me, threatening to kill me, or accusing me unfounded. They didn’t help on the quest at all.

The only god that was in my good books was my dad. And that was only because he said he was proud of me and that he loved me, because otherwise he wasn’t a very good father. 

I mean, if you were going to break the rules and have a kid you swore not have, why not break all the other rules and actually pop in once in a while when he’s growing up?

“But Hades is a god, Percy. He won’t take well to a demigod, especially you, Son of Poseidon, threatening to tear him limb from limb like he did to his own father.”

I frowned at my best friend. “Look, you know I didn’t mean and I’m sure he does too. It’s not like I could actually kill a god. Ares was different.” I said as he opened his mouth. “I wasn’t aiming to kill him, just maim him enough to grab the helm and run. Had that fight continued, I would have been pummeled until I was one with the asphalt.”

“And that’s my point. You injured a god. Once Hades hears of it he’ll think you stand behind your words.”

I brushed off Grover’s worries. The gods weren’t that stupid. 

xxxUnravelingDestinyxxx

The flight went smoothly, which I literally thanked Zeus for. Despite all my blustering to Grover, I wouldn’t have put it past the god of the sky to shoot the plane down because I was on it and recover his bolt himself. 

Luke instructed a cab driver to take us to the Empire State Building and manipulated the Mist with a snap of his fingers to get out of paying the smoking chauffer. 

“You have to teach me how to do that.” I begged, looking at him reverently. That would totally help with dealing with Smelly Gabe. Maybe I could trick him into hitting one of his poker buddies instead. 

“When we get back to camp. For now, you have about, eh, sixteen minutes to get that bolt back to He-who-rumbled-every-time-his-name-was-mentioned.”

The security guard glared at him none too subtly for the insult to his boss as he handed over the key card that would magically make the 600 floor button appear. I was kind of disappointed by his straightforwardness. I wanted to unzip the backpack and see his face pale when he realized I had the bolt. 

Luke led the way to the same elevator Chiron and I had taken three weeks earlier, sliding the card into the security slot and pushing the red button. 

“Does that key card work in every elevator or just this one?” I asked curiously. 

“Not the time, Perce,” said Grover.

“But I have to know!” Didn’t Grover understand ADHD by now? Or me for that matter? I was impulsive enough before it kicked in. 

“Focus, Percy”

Right. Priorities. Give Zeus his weapon back and pray to a different god that he doesn’t immediately point it at me. 

All the gods and goddesses were gathered in the throne room. Given that I had to crane my neck to look them in the eyes and all the yelling and finger pointing and the fists tightly clenched around staves, I’d say that we arrived just in time to prevent World War III. 

The gods froze, like they were in a tableau I learned about in drama class, and eleven pairs of eyes looked expectantly at the mortals that dare interrupt them. Okay, they were all looking at me.

The already high tension skyrocketed when I approached my father’s throne and knelt at his feet. 

“Father.”

I dared not look up. I was sweating bullets as I waited for some form of acknowledgement, like a hand on the shoulder. Only not that because I’m pretty sure I would be flattened if Poseidon tried. 

To my left, Zeus spoke. "Should you not address the master of this house first, boy?"

 _No, I should go to my father first._ I thought angrily. 

"Peace, brother," Poseidon finally said. His voice stirred my oldest memories: that warm glow I remembered as a baby, the sensation of this god's hand on my forehead. "The boy defers to his father. This is only right."

I smiled up at him then. I could clearly see pride and love swimming in his eyes. 

"You still claim him then?" Zeus asked, menacingly. "You claim this child whom you sired against our sacred oath?"

“Yes,” Poseidon answered. “He is my son. And if you wish to discuss broken oaths, brother, I feel the need to remind you that the oath was your idea and you broke it first.”

I stared in awe as my dad took Zeus down a couple pegs. Hades, I wished I had a brother. It would be so cool to see his face turn that shade of purple. 

Zeus grumbled but could not continue that argument without looking like a fool, which he did anyway in the pinstripe suit, so he demanded that I tell them everything that happened. 

I took great joy in pointing out that Hades was as blameless as my father. Despite my bad experience with him, I felt a little sorry for the guy. To be banished from this place seemed really unfair. It would make anybody bitter. He was only welcomed on Olympus one day a year, one the winter solstice, so he had built his own Olympus underground. 

I also liked pointing out that Ares was weak enough to be played like a mule to deliver the bolt and that he hadn’t returned it to Zeus when he had the chance. 

He was already pissed at me. Why not go all the way out? Hopefully he wouldn’t pull that pretend to like me crap and stab me in the back later. I’d rather know who my enemies are from the start and who I can trust.

Conveniently, the one god not present, aside from Hades, was Ares. So I had no compulsions against getting him in trouble. 

So I told Zeus everything, just as it had happened. I took out the metal cylinder, which began sparking in the sky god's presence, and laid it at his feet.

There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.

Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it.

As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a twenty-foot javelin of arcing, hissing energy that made the hairs on my scalp rise.

I had been carrying that on my back?

"I sense the boy tells the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing ... it is most unlike him."

"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon said. "It runs in the family."

"Ares didn't act alone. Someone else—something else— came up with the idea." 

I described my dreams, which I hadn’t shared with anyone else, of the voice from the pit promising me power if I joined him, that moment in the streets of Hollywood, that momentary breath of evil that had seemed to stop the world, and made Ares back off from killing me.

“It was the same thing I felt when I got close to that pit. That was the entrance to Tartarus, wasn't it? Something powerful and evil is stirring down there ... something even older than the gods.”

I don’t know how I knew that. Something just felt wrong about that pit. 

Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. I only caught one word. Father.

Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus held up his hand angrily. "We will speak of this no more," Zeus said. He turned back to me.

“If Ares or Hades was not responsible, than who was, boy?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fine. I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal." He rose. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

"I had help, sir," I said. "Grover Underwood and Luke Castellan—"

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Perseus Jackson. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."

“Wait!” I called out anxiously as he made to leave. “I returned your bolt by the deadline. You swore on the Styx that my father could contact me.”

The Lord of the Sky gnashed his teeth at the reminder, obviously hoping that I would be happy enough to be alive to not hold him to his oath. 

“And you promised me a favor.” I pressed. 

“Do not be impudent, nephew. Tell me what it is you want.” Zeus thundered. 

I glanced behind me at Luke, who was smartly kneeling in the doorway and keeping himself uninvolved. Maybe I could show him that the gods could change. 

“I wish the same for Luke Castellan.”

The Olympians gasped. 

“My favor is that Hermes also be allowed to break the ancient rule with regards to his son Luke.”

Zeus looked like someone had stabbed him in the eye. The other gods and goddesses whispered, not at ease with my demand. Apparently it was okay for me and Poseidon. They had to keep the boy that could be their savior happy, if only so that he wouldn’t burn them to the ground.

But when it came to another demigod they were reluctant to do the same. 

Couldn’t they see that it was this attitude that was the undercurrent for the resent many demigods felt for the gods? It was a thankless job. Demigods jumped because the gods said to, dying on dangerous quests for the gods sakes, and were given nothing in return and told they should be thankful for their lives. 

Zeus tried to convince me to pick another favor, but I refused. If my mother was here she would have laughed softly at my stubbornness, saying I got it from my father’s side of the family. It was one of the few things she would tell me about my dad then.

I continued to insist that Luke and Hermes be granted the same privilege, and would not bow. The ocean bowed to nobody but the moon.

Then again, judging by the look of disdain on Artemis’s face, this son of the sea god would not be answering to the pull of the moon either. 

In the end, it was Hestia, goddess of the hearth, that reminded her brother that he had sworn to give me any favor and Zeus folded like a wet paper towel.

It was only after all the gods disappeared, leaving the three of us alone in the throne room, that I realized once again that I did not tell them the Great Prophecy had been revealed to me.

And now that I had called in my favor for Luke, I had nothing to protect me when Zeus found out.

I grabbed both Luke and Grover by the arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here before Zeus changes his mind.”


	9. Karma’s not a Bitch. She’s a Goddess and she Hates me

“You shouldn’t have done that, Percy.” Luke said angrily as the three of us rushed out of the throne room and onto the glittering marble walkways of Olympus. His nails dug painfully into my shoulder.

“Wha. . .why not?” Befuddled, I tilted my head to look up at him. His face was white, with twin marks of red across his checks displaying his rage. Blue eyes darkened to the point they were almost black. “I thought that was what you wanted! For the gods to pay more attention to their children!”

“Yes!” Luke snarled. Grover bleated nervously as the blonde son of Hermes suddenly shoved me. “For _all_ the gods to acknowledge all their children! Not just one or two! You had the opportunity of a lifetime. A favor from Zeus himself for _anything_ and you wasted it on me!”

“I did not waste it!” I shouted, throwing a punch at him, but he easily evaded. “You’re my friend. You helped me a lot on this quest and you deserved something for that. I still don’t know anything about Greek mythology and legends, which is now really important because they’re not just stories anymore and not knowing will result in me continuing to piss off the wrong people. We would have died in the museum if not for you. You stopped me from stupidly walking into Tartarus. Without you we wouldn’t have gotten off of Long Island, never mind all the way to Los Angeles. 

“And you drove the van,” chimed Grover.

I gestured wildly at him. “The van you stole . . .”

“Illegally borrowed without permission,” the blonde grinned wryly. 

“see, even Grover agrees with me. And he has been very against the majority of my ideas in the past.” I finished.

“To be fair, setting off the school’s sprinklers during the pep rally was a horrible idea, Perce.”

Luke’s eyebrows rose, incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“Yancy held their pep rallies at the end of the day. I thought that if the sprinklers went off they would send us home early. You know, because the cheerleaders’ uniforms were mostly white.” I tried to defend myself. Based on the amused looks still present on my friends’ faces, I knew they didn’t believe me.

I actually had been attempting to get the school to let the students leave for winter break early. Smelly Gabe had promised to break a few of my ribs if I interrupted is midafternoon nap one more time. So, instead of him just waiting until I returned to the apartment to fall asleep, I had to be back before he did. Only Yancy didn’t end the last day until noon. I had hoped that by soaking the cheerleaders the pep rally would be cancelled.

However, Nancy had spied me lighting a match in an unoccupied hallway and immediately ran to inform Ms. Dodds. I got suspended with a severe warning and the school had to call Gabe to pick me up. 

That was the worst beating of my life.

I worked so hard to hide the bruises and welts from my mother and Grover, but I had never been the best liar. So my best friend always knew I wasn’t being truthful, but he never pushed the issue even if he didn’t believe me. 

Luke slumped, exhaustion finally settling in. “Look, Percy, it’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I do, really. I’ve spent years cursing the gods for pushing demigods around like dominoes, but if you really wanted them to change their ways, you should have asked that all the gods be allowed to visit their children.”

“Oh.” I hung my head. He was right. I could have had Zeus abolish that stupid rule. Instead I only released Hermes from it. And only with regards to Luke. Pretty soon the whole of Hermes’ cabin would hate the both of us. “Sorry, Luke. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Don’t worry about it, Percy. If you truly do end up saving Olympus, I’m sure you’ll more than deserve another favor. Just remember to think before you ask. The gods have long memories, so there’s no need to call in a favor right away.”

* * *

A fifteen minute cab ride later I was standing in front of my mom’s apartment.

I didn’t bother with ringing the doorbell. I just threw the door open, expecting my mother to come running at the sound of the door crashing into the wall, her eyes misty with tears when she saw me safe and sound.

Instead I found her and Smelly Gabe arguing. My dramatic entrance had gone unnoticed by both. 

Gabe was clearly drunk, as was typical. The rotund man was swaying on his face. Piggy eyes were bulging and his arms waved around manically as he yelled himself red in the face. 

More surprising was the fact that my mom had actually raised her voice to him. She was always so much better at handling his moods. Calm and soft spoken. Amicably given him whatever he wanted to pacify him. 

“He ran away. Let him stay gone. I’m not putting up with that punk again, Sally!”

“My son,” she hissed, “is not a punk. He’s not a criminal or a fugitive. Percy is my son. He’ll stay with me. I’ll take him with me to work if I have to, but he is returning home!”

“He ruined my Camaro!” Gabe roared, spittle hitting Sally in the face. 

My mother wiped the disgusting man’s saliva off her face with the sleeve of her long shirt. “He did no such thing, Gabe. He wasn’t even driving! I was.”

“Oh, you were, were you? Then it’s you I should be punishing?” He tried to sneer but it came out more slurred than malicious. Gabe raised the partially drunken beer bottle in his hand and smashed it over my mom’s head.

The bottle shattered. The only sound in the room other than a thud as my mother crumpled to the carpet. 

I stood frozen in the doorway. The sound of glass breaking and a body hitting the floor echoing and repeating inside my head. The only thing I could think was ‘Smelly Gabe hit my mother.’

I wasn’t thinking when I jammed my hand into my pocket, fingers curling around Riptide. I had drawn the pen from my pocket and uncapped it, releasing its sword form, before my brain caught up. As vile as he was, Gabe was a human. And Celestial Bronze only worked on monsters. 

Numb, I recapped the sword. What happened after that I couldn’t remember. Maybe I dropped it. Or maybe I had thrown it at the monster that had dared to strike my mom.

All I know is he had turned around, looked right at my with some stupid grin on his face, and then my hands were wrapped around his throat.

I watched, detached, as Gabe’s face slowly took on a blue color and his struggles to remove my hands slow and finally ceased. I let him go like he was on fire when his hands limply fell away from mine. 

My hands rose to shoulder height of their own accord. I stared at the still curled fingers. I had killed before, but not like this. On the quest I was slaying demons and supposed to be mythical monsters. Monsters that never truly died, only disintegrating for a period of time before reforming.

But killing Gabe was permanent. He would not come back like the Minotaur. I had just ended another person’s life.

‘He deserved it,’ I tried to convince myself. ‘He broke his word. I was his punching bag. He wasn’t supposed to lay a hand on mom.’

I spun on the spot, dropping to my knees beside her head, disregarding the stinging from the broken glass. My heart fell into my stomach as I gently lifted her head and cradled it in my lap. Blood covered fingers shook as I checked her neck for a pulse.

There was none. 

My mother was dead. 

Gabe had killed her.

My torso sagged. I hunched over my mom’s body. I don’t know how long I remained there, crying as her body cooled. When a familiar hand firmly but gently pulled me upright and arms encircled me, my tears had dried. Red tracks were mirrored on both sides of my face, tight and dry from the salt water that coursed down them. 

I followed Chiron on autopilot as he led me from my apartment and into Camp Half-Blood’s white van. The ride was long and the silence tense and strained. I paid no attention to the campers that tried to give me a hero’s welcome once we arrived at camp, just letting Chiron steer me towards the Big House. 

Chiron’s eyes were the saddest I had ever seen them when he turned his gaze on me. “I am sorry to ask this of you, Percy, but I must know what happened.”

I dully explained the fight I had witnessed upon my return home. The monotone of my voice didn’t crack until I reached the part when I was desperately searching for a pulse. 

“I see,” he said mournfully when I finished my retelling. “I am truly sorry for you, Perseus.”

“Don’t call me that.” I croaked. Only my mother had ever called me by my full name.

The centaur nodded his assent. “We could give her a burial here if you would like? Wrap her body in a shroud with Poseidon’s symbol and light a pyre?”

Beyond exhausted, I agreed. Chiron said he would handle have the burial shroud made, insisting that I return to cabin three and rest until my mother’s funeral. Several campers tried to slap me on the back and congratulate me as I walked down the rows of cabins, but Chiron would subtly shake his head and the demigod would back away.

* * *

Normally, I found the soft glow like abalone, the colorful and intricate pieces of coral and seashell, and the salty scent of the ocean calming. Just being in cabin three surrounded by the ocean was enough to lull me to sleep.

Tonight it irritated me. I eventually stopped tossing and turning and made my way down to the beach. 

Sitting on the sand as the waves lapped my feet, I realized that I had always turned to water when I was upset. Anytime when that man had hit me, whenever he had made me cry when I was younger, just sitting on the floor of the shower with the water pounding down on me had calmed me.

Looking back, I knew that the lighter feeling whenever I had stepped out, the wonder of a young boy at the miraculous disappearance of various aches, was because I was a son of Poseidon and water held healing properties for me. 

Wet sand squelched beside me. Glancing to my right, I saw my dad, dressed in a Bermuda shirt and khaki shorts, sitting next to me, digging his trident into the sediment to keep it upright. “Your mother was a queen among women.”

I was glad that he didn’t offer condolences. I don’t think I would have like my reaction if he had said he was sorry for my loss. Even though I understood that the gods were forbidden from interacting with mortals and that there was nothing Poseidon could have done to save my mother, a small part of me blamed him for her death.

If he had never fallen for, never made her fall in love with him, never of had me, Sally Jackson would be alive right now. 

“I offered to make her immortal. She turned me down.”

“Why?” I asked hollowly.

“She loved life too much. She had no desire to live it forever, not after what she had already seen through the Mist. But mostly because she loved you. Sally didn’t want to subject you life as a demigod, never mind a full one. She shielded you, protected you, started over each time hints of your heritage started showing. She took that man as a husband because he was obnoxiously human. He managed to mask a scent as powerful as yours for twelve years.”

He stood gracefully. “Come.” Poseidon offered a tanned, weathered, and calloused hand. Reluctantly I let my father pull me to my feet. With one last lingering glance at the ocean, we turned and made our way to the amphitheater.

Thankfully, nobody question the God of the Sea’s presence at my side as we wound our way down to the amphitheater’s floor.  Chiron had enlisted Aphrodite’s cabin to make my mother’s shroud. Looking at the space where my mother’s body was resting, wrapped in a shroud made of long sea green silk embroidered with dad’s trident, I could see that they had done a wonderful job. They didn’t seem to be full of talentless, vain airheads after all. The shroud shimmered, much like the ocean did when sunlight bounced off its surface. 

Luke and Grover came to stand beside me and I could not tell them how grateful I was to have their support. A Hephaestus camper hand me a torch. My fingers gripped it tightly, nails digging crescent moons into the wood. Before I had time to think about, I lowered it to the pyre.

The flames leapt from the torch to the silk. In seconds the entire pyre was alight. The four of us, Grover, Luke, my father, and I, remained on the amphitheater’s stage as the campers began to pile out. Fortunately or unfortunately, it did not take the pyre long to burn through completely. 

Poseidon needed to return to his palace once it was over, but Luke and Grover quietly remained with me as I mentally said my goodbyes to my mother.

After that, my memory of the night was hazy. But, given that both had bunked in the unused beds in cabin three, Luke and Grover had probably stayed the night comforting me. Neither said a word about my tear stained face as I roused them from their sleep.

Luke clapped me on the shoulder on his way out. “I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through, Perce. My mother, insane as she is, is still alive. But I did lose Thalia, and she was like a sister to me. I won’t lie and say you’ll get over it or that time mends all wounds. It’s always going to hurt. But it will start hurting less, until you can fondly remember both the good and the bad.”


	10. Capture the Flag Ends in Disaster. Again

At first, I holed myself in my cabin and tried to weather the storm that was my emotions. A raging hurricane of pain, grief, anger, regret, longing, and uselessness. After a few days, and it may have been more, I honestly lost track of all time, Luke would have no more of it.

The son of Hermes forcibly dragged me out of my low bearing cabin, saying he had had enough of my moping.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” I had asked plaintively.

“No,” he answered. “I know I said that the pain never really eases, and it doesn’t. You’ll carry it with you the rest of your life, short as it may be as Poseidon’s son.”

It shouldn’t have been funny. Luke was actually quite solemn as he mentioned my unlikely chances of reaching my sixteenth birthday. However, I was so unhinged that the idea of living short life caught me as amusing.

So I laughed. The undertone of hysteria rang through clearly.

Luke hauled on my arm. “C’mon, Perce. We’re starting a game of capture the flag.”

I blinked. Capture the flag. He wanted me to play capture the flag. That stupid game was the reason I was in this whole situation. If I hadn’t participated Poseidon probably would have never claimed me as his son.

I knew it was wrong to think that. The gods already knew exactly which one of them was my father before the god of the sea made the image of a trident appear over my head. _His_ car had already been wrecked and Hades had kidnapped my mother before I even knew the gods existed.

It was only a matter of time before Gabe severely hurt one of us. I had hoped, now that I knew the truth; that she would cut him loose. With the knowledge of who I was, Gabe’s despicably human scent no longer offered me any protection and my mother had no reason to keep him around.

But with everyone that I could blame out of reach (My mom was dead. I had killed Gabe. My father was at his underwater palace. Hades was in the Underworld and I was in no hurry to return there.) If I knew who was responsible for stealing the bolt I would blame them, and do my utmost to exact vengeance.

With the lack of options, I chose to blame the game that set my quest into motion.

“Listen, Luke, I don’t want to play. Not this time. Maybe the next game,” I tried to convince him to relinquish his grip, but he wouldn’t hear of it. As he dragged my loudly protesting self, I wished that Grover was here.

The satyr had offered to stay at camp as long as I needed him, but I couldn’t do that to him. As a result of our successful quest, he had been granted the searcher’s license he had dreamed of, and the normally unadventurous satyr was eager to set out on his own quest to find Pan. At my urging, Grover had done just that.

I regretted that now that Luke was my only friend in camp. Grover would have accepted my wish not to play and would not have forced me to socialize and work out my stress like the demigod was doing. Then he probably would have tried to play one of Hilary Duff’s songs on his reeds, in which case I’d join the game just to stop listening, but Grover wouldn’t force me out of my comfort zone before I was ready.

Admittedly, the game did help. With all my focus on winning, I didn’t have time to think about my loss.

This time, the Hermes cabin had teamed up with the Athena cabin. It was quite the hoarding of talent, all the brains and trickery on one side, so that even with every other camper against us, I felt like they were the ones handicapped.

Like Annabeth was always parroting, Athena always had a plan. This time it involved me and her guarding the creek, with a handful of other brainy demigods so that the Ares cabin, who had issued the challenge, would think that our team’s powerhouse was guarding the flag at his place of strength.

I wasn’t happy about working with the blonde daughter of Athena. She was still giving me the cold shoulder for refusing to bring her on my quest, which I didn’t mind. What I did mind was how she went around telling everyone she could the mistakes I made that could have been prevented if I had been smart enough to bring her along.

My already short fuse was about as thin as a blade these days. I had only been prevented from shoving Riptide through her because of Luke.

A feeling of unease settle upon me from the start of the match. A band of sons and daughters of the goddess of wisdom surrounded me, fielding me towards the creek with me at their center. Almost immediately Annabeth ordered half of them to go each way up the, although we should have only had to worry about the other team coming from the east side of the creek.

In quick succession we lost the rest of our “guard” to investigate noises in the woods. My anxiousness grew now that it was just me and Annabeth. I made sure to position myself with my feet in the shallow water of the creek and her in my line of sight. A creeping feeling crawled up my back.

“You know, Jackson, you’ve brought this on yourself,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

She brandishes her knife. “You see, Jackson, you weren’t supposed to return the bolt to Zeus.”

My mind stopped working. The only detail it could process was her lack of respectful address for the king of the gods. I have never heard Annabeth not call one of the Olympians by Lord or Lady. In fact, in the short time I had lessons with her she had harangued me for calling them by name as if they were mortals.

When the gears finally started working again, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Annabeth had just implied she was the real lightning thief. In that instant, when I connected lightning thief to my mother’s death, I saw red.

I raised Riptide, which had been resting comfortably in my palm ready to defend the nonexistent flag, and charged, letting out a yell similar to a wild boar.

She parried, side-stepping me easily and spinning nimbly around me. Now she stood, knife clenched tightly between the fingers of her right hand, between me and the creek. It didn’t matter, though. I didn’t need to stand in the water to control it. Actually, I didn’t even need to see it to command it. I just had to know it was there.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

I stopped the towering column of water from crashing down onto her. “Why? Because you don’t think I have it in me to kill a person?”

“Because, if I give the word, that pit scorpion on the back of your neck will stab you,” she replied smugly.

I froze. That creeping feeling I had felt earlier was not just apprehension. Instead, there was a lethal monster on my neck poised to kill me.

 _“You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.”_ I said. But Annabeth and I were not friends. How could she be the traitor? “But we’re not friends.”

Annabeth snorts, inelegantly. “Not entirely true. I may have disliked you for your father, but I thought us to be friends. Until you refused to let me join you. But it matters not.

“That little beast was summoned directly from Tartarus. Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You’ll be dead in sixty seconds,” Annabeth continues, casually moving away from the riverbed and towards me. I try my best to burn whole through her with my eyes, but none of my demigod abilities include shooting lasers or lightning bolts out of my eyes.

I know I need to stall for time. If the game ends and neither Annabeth nor I return from the forest, Chiron will send a search party. Given how carefully the traitor had constructed this plan, I suspect her siblings that came with us are traitors too and are there to keep anyone from interrupting our conversation.

It wouldn’t surprise me if whatever plan she concocted to capture the flag was bogus as well. She probably sent Luke, who was leading the offensive team, in the complete opposite direction of the flag with the aid of the Ares cabin. Ever since I had humiliated Clarisse and the rest of them, they had been itching to pay me back and this was the perfect opportunity. And they’re so stupid they wouldn’t question why Annabeth was setting her own team up to fail.

“How did you steal the bolt? And why? What do you gain?” I asked hurriedly.

Annabeth halted her advance. She tilted her blonde head to the side, pondering both me and my questions. I prayed that she would hold to character and answer them. She had always been exasperated when I interrupted her lectures with questions, huffing like she expected me to know the answers already and believing me stupid for not knowing. But she never failed to gloat her superior brain.

She pulled a familiar Yankees baseball cap out of her back pocket. In one smooth motion, she set it on her head and vanished.

I cursed silently to myself. I had seen her use this trick when Chiron suggested I take her as the third member on my quest. She had been in the conference room the whole time and was visible the second she pulled that hat off her head.

The whole journey I had never thought her to be capable of stealing Zeus’s master bolt. The identity of the real thief was never far from my mind, but Annabeth never made it on my list of suspects because I could see and feasible way for her to steal the bolt undetected.

“It was a gift from my mother.” Annabeth’s voice sounds right in my ear. It takes all my (admittedly lacking) self-control not to jump and startle the pit scorpion on the back of my neck into attacking. “Stealing the bolt was easy. The gods are arrogant. They think themselves to be so superior to humans; to demigods. They never once thought that one of their own children took their king’s most precious weapon.

“No,” she shook her head mournfully, stepping around in front of me. “It had to be Hades or Poseidon.”

“You’re talking about our parents.”

She laughed. “That’s supposed to make me love them? Their precious ‘Western civilization’ is a disease, Percy. It’s killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest.” I stare at her, unable to believe what she was saying. “Didn’t you feel it—the darkness gather, the monsters growing stronger? Didn’t you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics—being pawns of the gods, used when they need us and ignore otherwise. They should’ve been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they’ve hung on, thanks to us half-bloods.

“I’ve never met my mother, you know. She mailed this invisibility cap to me. How many times have you spoken with your father?” She asked.

I actually have to pause to think about that. I had seen and exchanged words with my dad a grand total of three times. Four if I count the time he visited me as a baby. For a normal family, that would be insane. Hell, even for half-bloods it was an amazing number. Most of them haven’t even seen their godly parent, let alone talked to him or her, and I’ve spoken to my dad three times in less than two months.

A sneer twisted her graceful features. “The gods don’t deserve to live. It has come time for the titans to rise again. And when they do, my master shall see an end to their selfishness.”

The pit scorpion crawled to a better perch on my shoulder. It stared at me with glittering eyes, tail curved and angled at my neck. “If I had time, Percy, I could explain. But I’m afraid you won’t live that long.”

I needed more time to get out of this. Master. Titans. That dark, seductive pit in the Underworld. What did they all have in common?

“Kronos.” I said. “That’s who you serve.”

The air got colder.

“You should be careful with names,” Annabeth warned.

“But why would you want a war between the gods?” I asked desperately. “What do you gain when Kronos rebuilds the world in his image?”

Her greys eyes glittered dangerously. “Power. Freedom. Vengeance.”

“Thalia gave her life to save you!” I shouted. This was my last gamble. If this didn’t shake Annabeth’s composure, I was dead. “And this is how you repay her?”

“Don’t speak of Thalia!” she snapped. “The gods _let_ her die! That’s one of the many things they will pay for.”

“You’re being used. Don’t listen to Kronos.” I tried to appeal to her pride. Surely Annabeth would realize she was still a pawn. Kronos would treat her no better than she claims the gods have.

“I’ve been used?” Annabeth’s voice turned shrill. “Look at yourself. What has your dad ever done for you? Kronos will rise,” she vowed. “You’ve only delayed him. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest and smartest—the ones that serve him.”

“He’s loved me. Protected me and broke the rules for me. My father is nothing like your mother.” I said coldly.

A fire burns in Annabeth’s eyes, and I watch as she visibly struggles to contain herself. “Nice try, Percy. But I’m not Ares. You can’t bait me. My lord is waiting, and he’s got plenty of quests for me to undertake.”

“Annabeth—“

“Good-bye, Percy. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won’t be a part of it.” She slashed her knife in a wide arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.

Several things happened simultaneously.

I jumped forward, intent on prevent her from going through or jumping in the portal after her. The scorpion lunges at my throat. I swatted it away with my left hand, attributing the slight sting on my palm from my hand connecting with the vile creature. The thing jumped at me and I cut it in half in midair.

My ears pounded. My vision went foggy. I could barely see a red welt on my hand oozing yellow pus.

‘The water,’ I thought. I’ve lost count of how many times the water has healed me.

I stumbled to the creek and submerged my hand, but nothing seemed to happen. The poison was too strong. My vision was getting dark. I could barely stand up.

My legs suddenly gave out from underneath me. _Sixty seconds,_ Annabeth had told me. How many had it been? Had anyone realized what happened?

I had to get back to camp. If I collapsed out here, my body would be dinner for a monster. Nobody would ever know what happened.

Unbidden, another thought went through my mind. Why not let the poison run its course? You’ll be free then, no need to worry about the Great Prophecy. And you’ll see your mother again.

It was the thought of my mother that cleared the fog in my brain. After all she had done to protect me she would not want me to die here. Sally Jackson was a strong woman. And I was her son. I would not let some stupid scorpion and bird brain beat me.

My legs felt like lead and my forehead burned. But I couldn’t afford to give up, so I started crawling back towards camp.

I hear several voices screaming my name and a conch horn. They don’t manage to pierce through the haze. In front of me is a woman with a head of dark hair, and she calls my name.

“Mom.”

Then everything went black.


	11. The Prospect's Black

Luke threw open the doors to the Mending Wing of the Big House, uncaring that he had pushed them with enough force for the heavy wooden slabs to hit the wall and bounce back to slam shut.

He wouldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. It simply wasn’t possible.

The son of Hermes unceremoniously shoved his way through the throng of Apollo’s children. He received many pointed glares and exclamations of pain for his excessive use of elbows to shove campers out of the way.

Minutes earlier nymphs had flooded the forest, calling a halt to their game of capture the flag. They cited a camper near death’s door as a reason for ending it.

The news had, of course, concerned Luke. He was the oldest camper at Camp Half-Blood. A lot of campers came to him for that reason. He was old enough for them to approach for help, but not like Chiron. Luke treated the other demigods like they were adults, not children that needed to be protected. He felt if they were old enough to learn to fight monsters, then they deserved not to be coddled.

Luke could name every demigod at camp, mostly because the majority of them had bunked in Hermes’ cabin at one point. But, because of his position as oldest and cabin counselor, Luke felt he was just as responsible for their well-being as Chiron and Dionysus were.

So the knowledge of a camper’s potentially fatal injury had startled him. He knew all the demigods personally and couldn’t think of one person that would be capable of dealing such harm to one of their own. The memory of a vengeful Clarisse briefly crossed his mind, but the blonde knew she would never grievously harm another camper.

And then he heard the rumors. No one had seen Percy since the start of the game.

Luke had turned around and pelted up the path to the Big House. He had practically zoomed up the dirt path like he was wearing a pair of winged sandals.

The nineteen year old finally forced his way to the centaur’s side. His skin, already pale with fear and worry, grew so ashen that it almost matched Percy’s grey and green pallor.

“Perce—“

Blue eyes stared in disbelief. He couldn’t believe it. Luke had thought Annabeth’s strategy was vastly different from her normal style, but chalked it up to having a child of the Big Three on her team that she could take advantage of. Percy’s power was unmatched and he was a natural at sword fighting as well.

Would she really have tried to kill Percy because he chose to have Luke as the third member on his quest and not her?

It didn’t fit with what he knew of the daughter of Athena. Pettiness wasn’t her style. Emotions didn’t factor into her decisions. She made choices based on logic and cold facts.

And that meant his friend truly believed that Percy Jackson needed to die.

Luke thought he might faint. His vision was swimming. “Get him out of here!” Chiron roared.

Clarity returned to him as several of Apollo’s sons tried to remove him from Percy’s bedside. Luke struggled to stay where he was. He couldn’t leave Percy alone. Not when his not being there had let Annabeth commit this travesty. He needed to stay; to protect Percy.

Strong as the blonde was, he couldn’t fend off a whole cabin. He was dragged away by no less than five pairs of arms and thrown out of the Mending Wing, hitting the wall opposite the wooden doors.

He slumped at the base of the wall, staring morosely at the double doors. Percy’s condition was his fault. Because he agreed to accompany him to return Zeus’s lightning bolt. Because he didn’t question Annabeth’s change of plans. Because he didn’t even blink at the idea of Percy and Annabeth working side by side. Because he wasn’t there to stop her; to make her see sense. Because he didn’t protect Percy.

Luke wanted to surrender to his emotions, to the overwhelming heartache and terror he was feeling. But he couldn’t. How could he be there for Percy if he fell apart like a seven year old? For the gods’ sake. The boy was only twelve. He had just lost his mother. He didn’t deserve this.

He ignored the whisper that reminded him the Annabeth was only twelve, too. That the scared little girl he had found hiding behind a sheet of corrugated metal was capable of killing at the age of twelve.

He hunched his shoulders, blonde locks falling to cover his eyes, which remained locked on the doors of the Mending Wing. His friend needed him. Luke could break down after Percy was well again. His eyes hardened.

Then he would hunt her down. There was a single question Luke was burning to ask her. “Why, Annabeth?”

* * *

 

_It was dark. So very, very dark. The air was musty, like the time he went on a field trip to a limestone mine and accidentally got separated from the tour group and wandered down an abandoned tunnel._

_And it was cold, too._

_I caught the sound of whispers behind me. Whirling around I saw a golden sarcophagus with graphic scenes of murder etched on its side. It was raised on a dais._

_That was where all the cold and darkness was coming from._

_At the foot of the dais knelt a familiar head of blonde hair. “My lord,” Annabeth reverently called up to the coffin. The Erinyes have agreed to side with us and several half-bloods have joined our ranks.”_

_There was silence from the coffin. “Our ranks?” The voice was cruel and poisonous. It carried with it an ancient power and coldness. It sounded a lot like knives scraping against stone._

_“Yours, my lord. Yours,” Annabeth quickly corrected herself._

_“You must be quicker. I am not regenerating fast enough.”_

_“But my lord, locating half-bloods is no easy task. They’re all taken to camp the moment a satyr stumbles upon them.” Annabeth despaired. Then she brightened. “I could approach the Roman camp, my lord!”_

_“Silence!” the voice roared. Annabeth flinched. “We are not alone.”_

_Her blonde locks whipped about as she frantically searched for whoever it was that the being in the sarcophagus sensed._

_All of a sudden I felt like the thing was staring at me. “Welcome, Percy Jackson,” it whispered sibilantly. Annabeth jumped to her feet, whirling around to glare at me. Her grey eyes glittered with unrestrained malice. “I hope you enjoyed your dreams, foolish hero. They won’t be pleasant forever.”_

_There was a searing pain in my head. Annabeth and the gold coffin vanished._

* * *

 

There was an odd weight across my midsection when I woke up. I wanted to sit up to remove it, because it was pressing me down into the bed and my back felt like someone had poked me with needles they left in a fireplace. A thousand of them. And my lungs felt like I had inhaled  a dozen caltrops.

I let out an involuntary hiss, both of pain and rage. Annabeth had been fond of the metal trap. Actually, the girl loved ruses and misdirections in general. She used them generously during games of capture the flag.

I could feel the blood boiling in my veins at the thought of that traitor. She couldn’t even confront me face to face. She hid behind her invisibility cap and let a pit scorpion do the work for her. In a fair fight, she wouldn’t stand a chance against. She had probably been planning that encounter since my father’s trident appeared over my head.

My thoughts all included Annabeth in some form. The blonde had seriously tried to kill me. I had come so close to going back to Hades’ realm. While glad to be alive, a small part of me was disappointed.

The last thing I remembered was seeing my mom. She had called out to me with an extended hand. I wanted so badly to see her again.

My eyes were crusty, making the eyelids want to stay closed, but I forced them open anyway. I rolled my head to my left. I stared at the figure sleeping next to me. Short cropped sandy blonde hair and the pale scar running down his right left cheek. What was Luke doing in my bed?

I moved to shove him away, or at least remove his arm so I could sit up, but couldn’t move my arms. They might as well have been made of lead.

“Luke. Luke, wake up.” My voice was hoarse and scratchy, but my bedmate’s blue eyes popped open.

He shot up like a jackknife. “Percy!” he exclaimed. “How are you feeling? Wait. Don’t say anything.”

I watched amused as Luke puttered about like a mother hen. Glass clinked on the side stand and then he shoved a cup of ambrosia under my chin. I drank greedily, sucking up the golden liquid through the straw provided.

My throat tightened at the taste, still my mom’s blue chocolate chip cookies.

Luke placed the cup on the bedside table when I drained its contents. My aches lessened enough that I could level myself into a sitting position. “That was a close call. Your skin was all green and grey. I can’t believe Annabeth would do this.”

The downtrodden look on Luke’s face hurt worse than knowing I had come close to dying. Annabeth’s betrayal had annoyed me, because she was a petty and gutless coward. But she had been his closest friend for five years.

I didn’t want to talk about the traitor thought. So I changed the topic. “How long was I out?”

“Six days, Perce. You woke once, actually. Thrashing and screaming incoherently. Chiron asked me to hold you down so you didn’t hurt yourself.”

Silence reigned. Both of us knew the incident with Annabeth had to be discussed, but I definitely wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. I still couldn’t think about the daughter of Athena without shaking. Plus, the conversation would no doubt hurt Luke.

The solution came in the form of Chiron, who wheeled into the Mending Wing and up to the side of my bed as Mr. Brunner. “I need to know what happened, my dear boy.”

I shared the details in a flat tone, thankful that neither interrupted. I didn’t mention the dream I had about Annabeth and the coffin, which must have been Kronos. Chiron seemed to have aged ten centuries by the end of my short tale.

“So Annabeth has joined the Titan Lord. I must inform Lord Zeus.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “I am glad you are well, my boy.”

“I’m sorry, Percy,” Luke said once the doors had swung closed behind Chiron.

I stared at him curiously. “What for?”

“About Annabeth. I knew she wasn’t happy with the gods. We both were. But I never imagined she would go against them.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said firmly. “If anyone is to blame, it’s the gods and their stupid rule about not being able to see their kids.”

“But—“

Luke tried to say something, but I cut him off. “There are no buts. If she hadn’t felt abandoned she would have never joined Kronos.”

Luke gave me a weak smile. “So the next time the gods owe you a favor, you’re going to tell them to get rid of that rule, right?”

I flinched, reeling away from him. I understood that he meant it as a joke, but if felt like a slap to the face. I had a chance to stop this, to prevent countless demigods from feeling like their godly parent didn’t care about them, and I had only wished that Hermes be allowed to visit look. I didn’t spare any thought to the other children of Hermes, who would no doubt be jealous that Luke could see their father while they couldn’t, or any of the other half-bloods.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Perce. That’s not what I meant,” he backtracked.

“I know. Look, I’m still tired. Do you mind leaving?”

Luke looked unsure but he conceded to my wish. I lay there, staring at the ceiling after he left. If there was one thing I had learned on my quest, it was that the gods didn’t deserve the children they had. Most campers were satisfied to know their other parent hadn’t abandoned them. Just being at Camp Half-Blood, learning to use the unique abilities that came with being a demigod, was enough for them.

The demigods definitely got the short end of the stick. So it wasn’t unsurprising that some would join Kronos. My dream was clearly a warning. If things didn’t change, more and more half-bloods would side with the Titan.

Change wasn’t going to come easy. The gods had remained unchanged for millennia. I had to get a vow sworn on the Styx to even get Zeus to allow Poseidon and Hermes to break that sacred rule.

When sleep finally claimed me, it was uneasy. One line of the Great Prophecy repeated itself like a broken record.

_Olympus to preserve or raze._

 


	12. I Greet a Tree

I wanted nothing more than to mope about my close shave with death alone in my cabin. I knew Annabeth wasn't my biggest fan, and was very upset when I specifically requested that she not be included on my quest, but I never imagined that she would try to kill me.

Now she had run off to Kronos, the Titan Lord planning to destroy Olympus, and it really might be my fault if Olympus was razed because I had chosen Luke over her.

Had the Great Prophecy already come to pass? _A single choice to end his days. Olympus to preserve or raze._ Did I make that choice unknowingly?

"Stupid prophecy," I muttered, punching my pillow in anger. What good were ambiguous prophecies that foretold the future if they were too confusing to understand? Was it too hard for that stupid Oracle mummy to speak English. Or Greek. Whichever my brain would understand easiest.

The prophecy was no use to me in hindsight. What good was knowing someone was going to betray me but not exactly who?

I took a deep breath. Grover said it was supposed to be soothing, but I didn't feel any calmer afterwards. I flopped over on my back, repeating the words of the Great Prophecy for what had to be the thousandth time. I lost count early on.

_A half-blood of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds._ For a prophecy, I suppose that line was actually rather straightforward. Depressing, don't get me wrong. It was disturbing to learn that hardly any demigods of the Big Three made it to sixteen.

Considering that I had just nearly died though, I totally believed the odds were against me. There was a reason I never won at poker against Gabe. Aside from the fact he would have beaten me if I ever did, I had really bad luck.

I chose to take comfort in the first line. As the son of Poseidon, I was the only child of the Big Three. So it was kind of nice knowing that whatever else happened in the next four years, the Fates didn't have any intention of killing me soon.

_And see the world in endless sleep, the hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap._ The middle part of the prophecy was confusing. Endless sleep sounded like a synonym for _everyone will be dead_ to me. Maybe it only referred to demigods? Still horrible, but at least it wouldn't be the whole world.

I glanced at the pen lying innocently on the bedside table. I didn't want to pick it up. The prophecy spoke of a cursed blade, and Ares had cursed Riptide in Los Angeles. I shuddered at the idea of my soul being reaped and that it would probably be with my own sword.

_A single choice to end his days. Olympus to preserve or raze._ Now that I thought about it, maybe I hadn't made the fate deciding choice yet. There had to be a reason the prophecy stipulated that the half-blood would be sixteen first. Maybe it was a choice I would make on my birthday.

If that was so, this prophecy wasn't so frightening. I would never choose to destroy Olympus. Well, maybe Zeus if I could get away with it. He was dick. Ares too.

I sat up, gathering things like a towel and clean clothes and my toothbrush. Wallowing over some stupid riddle was a waste of time. I marched over to the door, intent on taking a shower which I hadn't had in four days. Thankfully the showers were right behind the Poseidon cabin, so no one would see me looking like some kind of bum.

The door swung open before I got there, admitting my only friend in camp currently, Luke. Grover had already left in search of Pan. Since our quest was a success he had been granted his searcher's license. He had wanted to stay and be here for me, but I didn't want to stop him going after his dream.

Plus, I didn't think I could take another reed pipe rendition of Hilary Duff's _Jericho._ Grover had a disturbing fascination with that woman's songs. I made the mistake of saying once where he could hear that they all sounded the same to me. The satyr had ranted and raved, slipping into his humans are evil mode, and then played every one he knew to prove me wrong.

I appreciated him trying to distract me, but I had no desire to be strangled by the strawberry plants.

"Luke? What are you doing here?"

He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me in the opposite direction of the showers. "Where are we going?"

"Just come with me. I want to show you something."

It wasn't like I had much of a choice. Luke was not going to release me. He banged on my cabin at every spare minute the last for days, practically pleading for me to come out and return to lessons. Anything that meant I wasn't hiding myself away.

I tried to struggle against his grip. The last thing I needed was for Clarisse to see me looking as pathetic as I did, and Luke didn't seem to care that he was tugging me through the heart of the camp and towards the Big House.

I exhaled in relief when he turned down the path that lead to the hill. He gave me an odd look for it. "If you wanted to sneak out of camp man, all you had to do was ask. Kidnapping is not necessary. Leave that to the satyrs."

"We're not leaving camp," the blond said shortly, finally stopping in the shade of a familiar pine tree.

It was the one my mom had been shouting about when we first raced to Camp Half-Blood. She kept saying that camp was just behind the hill and I would be safe past the tree. I wanted to punch Luke for bringing me hear. Tears welled up in my eyes. This was where I had first lost my mom. I had thought she had died that night.

"Luke—"

"Remember the story that Grover told you?" he interrupted.

I blinked. "You mean the one about Thalia and you guys getting to camp?"

The son of Hermes nodded seriously. Patting the bark of the towering pine tree, he solemnly said, "Perce, this is Thalia."

There were many things I could say to that. But the first that came to mind was, "Hi, Thalia." Like I wasn't crazy enough, now I was talking to a dead girl that had been turned into a tree by her father.

Oddly enough though, I didn't feel stupid greeting her. She had been just as unfortunate as me. Another child of the Big Three that wasn't supposed to exist and that paid for her father's actions.

"I met Thalia first, you know. It was on the outskirts of Los Angeles," began Luke, hunkering down against the side of the tree. He patted the grass next to him, so I shrugged and sat as well. "Right in front of a dragon's cave. She was only nine at the time. But she was still the toughest demigod I've ever met. We were both runaways. You're lucky in that regard, Percy. Your stepfather might have been a horrible man, but your mortal parent wasn't insane or an alcoholic. She loved you."

I choked back a sob at the use of the past tense. But I supposed Luke was right. I was my mom's world. She had married that man to protect me. We vacationed at Montauk every chance we got so I could be close to my father, even though I didn't know about the Greek Gods at the time. She never complained about the trouble I caused, whether it was having to find a new school every year or the fights I got into with Gabe. She had always been doing small things to make me happy, like making blue foods or slipping me money to visit the local pool.

I startled when water splashed on my arms, which were lying uselessly in my lap. I brought a hand up to brush away at the tears I hadn't even noticed I was crying.

Thankfully, Luke artfully ignored my silent breakdown by continuing with his story of his time with Thalia.

"We traveled together after that. For three years it was just the two of us. We hunted down monsters and set up safe houses across the country. Then she found Annabeth."

I frowned as he trailed off wistfully. Why was he telling me this? I wasn't going to pity the girl that chose to run away from home because her father remarried. The more I learned about Annabeth, the stupider she was. I'd take her stepmom over Gabe every day.

"She was this little waif of a girl, but she wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. Shortly after that everything went wrong. Thalia got injured and Hades discovered she was alive and Grover accidentally led us into a Cyclopes' clutches. Then we finally reached camp and Thalia sacrificed her life for us.

"That night changed Annabeth. And it didn't help that I blamed the gods for her death. If Hades hadn't sent all of those monsters after us, she'd still be alive."

I stole a glance at look, and was flummoxed by the shadow of pain in his eyes. Thalia meant a lot to Luke. This was the first time I saw him cry.

And just like that it hit me. Like in that Looney Tunes cartoon where the characters keep dropping an anvil on their heads.

"You loved her."

"Yeah," he admitted easily. "She'd electrocute me if she knew what I let Annabeth do."

He only cared about Annabeth because Thalia had. She was all he had left of the adventures they had shared. So Luke had tried to do his best by Annabeth, but his hatred of the gods colored her, to the point where she thought it was time for them fade.

"Well, you would look cooler if your hair stuck up on ends."

I was awarded with a weak grin. "Look," I said seriously, "it wasn't your fault. The gods made their choices. Annabeth made her choices. She'll see just how wrong she was when we beat her and save the world."

"We?"

"We," I confirmed, yanking him up and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm no match for her. She'd easily take me in a fight. You know her. Her strengths. Her weaknesses."

Luke flashed me a wide grin. "If that's the case, shouldn't you be training? You're supposed to be in Greek Mythology now."

"Not much mythology to it," I replied, masking a slight flinch as a dramatic shudder. Annabeth generally assisted Chiron in teaching me that lesson. I hated it, because she quickly got frustrated by the slow pace I learned at. I didn't have the greatest memory, but Annabeth was an awful teacher.

Maybe it was because my father was Poseidon, god of the sea which was as wild and untamed as nature could be, but my ADHD was worse than other demigods'. I just couldn't sit in a chair for an hour and a half listening to Annabeth dryly recite chapters from _Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology._

Luke laughed at my retort. "It's all real, and that's why you need to know it. Or at least how to deal with the various monsters that will try to kill you. Come on, Percy. We've got places to be."

And once more the older teen was guiding me through camp. Only he wasn't bringing me to the Big House. Luke hurried us straight past it, which I was okay with cause Mr. D. was in the middle of another game of pinochle and he threatened to turn the last camper who interrupted his game into one of his precious strawberry plants.

"My young padawan," he proclaimed grandly when we reached the arena, "since you do not learn in a classroom setting, we are going to try the hands on approach."

Luke's good mood was infectious. "You've got that all wrong. You're the padawan, Luke."

I had two seconds to see his blue eyes glint mischievously before he threw me on my back. I stared up at him dazed while a cloud of dirt settled. "First lesson, never let your guard down. Now, if I was a harpy, how would you kill me?"

I grinned, reaching into my pocket for the familiar weight of Riptide. There was a SHINK as it transformed from pen to sword. The Celestial Bronze glowed in the morning sun. I bent my knees for balance and held the sword aloft in front of me.

I spent the rest of the day in the arena with Luke, who was actually quite brilliant at imitating monsters, ignoring the rest of my daily schedule much like I had ever since my run in with Annabeth and her pet scorpion. The next day I talked to Chiron and he agreed to let Luke take over my Greek Mythology lessons.

The end of summer rolled around. There was one last celebration in which this summer's bead was handed out. I proudly strung the black bead with a sea green shimmering trident at its center on the leather necklace they gave me.

It was the happiest and proudest I had felt all summer, though I blushed furiously when Luke stood up to make his announcement. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!"

I cheered with them, enjoying one last night as most of them would be leaving in the morning and I wouldn't see them until next summer. There would only be a handful of us staying at camp year round. I would be one of them, seeing as I had nowhere else to go.

But, watching as the campfire threw shadows and light over the faces of Chiron and Luke and even Clarisse, I didn't feel the gut wrenching pain and sorrow that usually accompanied thoughts of my mom. Because I had found a place where I belonged.


	13. The Neverending Nightmare

“C’mon, Perce. You’re a son of Poseidon, not Aphrodite. This should be as easy as walking on water for you.”

I groaned breathlessly, because Luke had knocked it all out of me by slamming me to the ground for the umpteenth time. I hadn’t realized that walking on top of water would be possible, but now I was itching to try it. I just wanted water in general, since just touching the liquid could heal and rejuvenate me.

“Can’t I have a bottle of water? I promise not to dump it over my head.” I gave Luke my most pleading puppy dog eyes, where my eyes were blown as wide as they could go and drew on some tears so that they would shimmer a little. I was very good at facial expressions. Just ask Grover. I used to give any kid that stared at him funny my Deluxe-I’m-Going-To-Kill-You-Later-Glare.

Luke, much like the last six times I had asked that question, pretended that I never spoke and yanked me upright. My back, already aching and bruised black and blue all over, viciously protested, spazzing and seizing and burning.

“Please?” I was shameless.

“That’d be cheating.”

“How is that cheating?” I asked. “Shouldn’t I take advantage of such a super cool restorative ability?”

“Absolutely,” Luke said easily, “but you won’t always have a source of water nearby, so you need to be prepared to fight the long battles on your own.”

With a sigh I retook my starting position. It made sense, as usual. Not unsurprising, considering how long Luke had been fighting. He had several years of experience. Only Chiron had more, and the centaur didn’t count because he came straight out of the history books and wasn’t a demigod. As the blond settled into an offensive stance across from me, I wondered if I would ever be as good as him.

The son of Hermes was easily the best swordfighter at camp. A fact which no doubt annoyed the whole Ares cabin. Given my recent encounter with the god, who now hated me and therefore so did his children, especially Clarisse whom I had embarrassed on my first day, I took great pleasure in watching Luke wipe the floor with them. Ares’ children were nothing more than bullies anyway, always picking fights and looking down on all the other cabins.

“Don’t over think it, Percy. You’ve got better instincts than most demigods. Trust them. Hone them. By summer you’ll give Clarisse a run for her drachmas.”

Luke’s sudden moments of insight had stopped causing mini panic attacks two weeks ago. The first time he did it, I thought Hermes had a hidden ability to read minds. Turns out that his kids are just really observant. Freakishly so. They notice everything. But they kind of have to in order to steal from other demigods in broad daylight and not get caught.

There were just some things, like undertaking dangerous quests into the heart of the Underworld and nearly getting dragged down to Tartarus and saving the world, that you couldn’t do without becoming the kind of friends that knew what the other was thinking or how he was feeling without being told.

Although it probably wasn’t that hard to guess in my case. I had had a tête à tête with him and Grover in which I spilled all my feelings about being inadequate and that if I had known the myths were real earlier or had more time to train than I could have saved my mother or stopped Annabeth from defecting.

Luke had understood me. He felt part of the blame lied with him for not discouraging her dislike of the gods and not noticing how she had changed. He may have talked about how angry he was at the gods for ignoring them, but he didn’t want to get rid of them. The teen just wanted them to change, to acknowledge all the kids they had, since they needed us. Plus, it was their fault demigods had to fight monsters.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about her. Luke got this pained expression on his face anytime Annabeth’s name was brought up.

I gasped when I was suddenly thrown off my feet. I hit the ground with a thud. Luke came to stand next to me, and I didn’t need to look at him to see the disappointment in his eyes. “One more time.” I climbed to my feet.

Luke didn’t bother getting into his ready position. He launched himself at me, which turned out to be exactly what I needed. We grappled for a minute and this time, when I was lying on the ground again, I felt better. That attempt was my best one so far. Maybe Luke was right about my instincts, because I was more successful when he did a surprise attack than when I knew what his move would be.

“Again,” I grinned, and Luke complied.

We spent the rest of the afternoon training. The only sounds that came were my grunts of pain and my demands to keep going. By the time Luke ended the session I still hadn’t thrown him, but I was happy with my progress.

Unlike Luke, who headed for the showers, I made my way to the beach of the Long Island Sound. I said hi to Charlie Beckendorf, one of Hephaestus’s sons as I passed. I didn’t see a lot of Cabin Nine’s counselor because he mostly taught new campers proper weapon maintenance, which I didn’t need. Magic blade and all that.

Beckendorf was one of the few year round campers. There were times I was envious of him. His godly parent wasn’t one of the Big Three, so he could leave the safety of Camp Half-Blood’s magical protection if he wanted to. I couldn’t step outside the boundaries without drawing monsters to me like animals on the scent of rotting meat. They’d live normal lives in a few years.

That was something I desperately wanted at the moment. Normality. No prophecies of doom hanging over my head. No waiting for the other shoe to drop. That deep desire for ordinary was why I established a routine of going down to the beach, shedding my shoes and socks, and just lying on the sand and soaking my feet.

In retrospect, a lot of things about my life made sense now that I knew the identity of my father. My mom’s obsession with the color blue to start. How I always felt calmer and more level-headed when taking a shower. The soothing effect of being on the beach, feet squishing in wet sand and tasting salt in the air with every breath. I took showers after _that man_ pounded me, not just to wash off the blood, but to wash away feelings of anger, frustration, and fear as well.

“Hey, dad,” I said, the start of my newest ritual. Being able to talk to Poseidon, even though he never responded, was a weight of my chest. It actually reminded me of my mom. Every time I came home from school she would let me talk about anything and everything, never condemning me for causing trouble or getting suspended or having to find a school that would enroll someone like me. She listened, and that always made me feel better.

“I trained with Luke today. He’s teaching me how to throw a person. Don’t know why. I mean, I fight monsters and they’re way too big to be thrown usually. Luke says I’m supposed to use that against them, but it’s not working. I’ve got a patchwork of bruises on my back as proof. He’s been pushing me really hard.”

And then I was rambling. I talked about everything. The history I had learned of between Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth and how unfair it was that the daughter of Zeus had been turned into a tree (and would you please not turn me into a bed of kelp when I died.) About how much I missed my mother, a wound so deep I didn’t think it would ever heal. The dreams that had plagued my sleep since Annabeth’s vanishing act.

They were nothing more than darkness and shadows. Kronos’s voice whispered in my ear, promises to grant my deepest wish if I helped him bring Olympus and the gods to ruin.

A feeling of warmth spread up from my feet. _Worry not, Perseus. You are strong. I believe in you._

“Love you too, dad.” I stood, stretching the now healed back muscles by raising my arms over my head and twisting from side to side. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

It had been two and a half months since my world had collapsed around me. I wasn’t healed by any means of the word, but maybe I was getting there. I had Luke, who spent all his free time training me and ignored the camp rule that said you had to eat at your godly patron’s table to sit with me at Poseidon’s. Grover sent me an Iris Message once a week, nervously asking how I was feeling and letting the subject drop when I told him I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Instead he’d tell me how his search for Pan was going. Not well, but the satyr was enjoying himself, immensely happy to finally be pursuing his dream.

And I had my father, who, while he couldn’t be at my side physically, was present in the water around me. He was going through the same pain I was, and it was oddly comforting to know that.

I made my way to the dining pavilion. Luke was already seated at the table reserved for Poseidon’s children. He had even made up a plate of my favorites. I spent that evening chatting and laughing and brushing of Luke’s teasing of how I looked like a crab floundering on its back.

That night, when I went to sleep, my dreams were filled with happy memories of my mom, the smile of my father; the one he had given me two and a half months ago was the same one he had given me as a baby, and me, Luke, Thalia, and Grover.

I felt better than I had in ages when I woke the next morning. And that good feeling continued throughout the day. I threw Luke twice in training, insulted Clarisse in a way she didn’t understand, and Grover checked in from somewhere in Montana.

Everything was great. Until Chiron summoned me up to the Big House.

I had raced to the conference room, mind working in overdrive to figure out why the centaur had called for me. I paused when I reached the room and found the other nine cabin counselors seated at the table. I was Cabin Three’s by default, being the only son of Poseidon, and didn’t have any of the duties of the other counselor’s because I was only in charge of myself.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I slid into the seat next to Luke. “Chiron tell you anything?”

“Just that my presence was needed,” he responded grimly.

The sound of Chiron’s hooves echoed as he entered and hurriedly took his place at the head of the table. I had a flashback to the last two times I was in this room, when I informed Chiron and Mr. D. about the prophecies the Oracle had given me.

With suspicion making my stomach roll, I glanced around the room. The god was nowhere to be found.

“Annabeth has sent us a message.”

Luke stiffened in his seat. I clenched my jaw. It was far too soon for either of us to deal with the emotional shit storm Athena’s daughter had caused, but it looked like we wouldn’t have a choice.


	14. A Gauntlet is Thrown

The silence in the room was loud, deafening, after Chiron finished speaking.

_Annabeth has sent us a message._ The words echoed as the assembled counselors shared looks filled with fear and unease. How did she do it? Why?

Bringing up Annabeth in front of Luke or me was tantamount to opening a can of worms, and even though her actions affected us the worst, they were still a blow to the campers at large who thought her to be a bright young girl.

_Annabeth has sent us a message._ Those six words stabbed through me. Malcolm, who was promoted to head counselor of Athena’s cabin, looks just as torn.

“Well?” Luke pressed, leaning closer to Chiron, “what did she say?”

_Annabeth has sent us a message._ Why was Luke pushing so hard? I didn’t want to hear her message. On a scale of one to ten, one being likened to Oedipus Rex and ten being the comedy Lysistrata, I thought this rated the Greeks being replaced by the Romans.

Which was bad. Really bad.

Annabeth wouldn’t be IMing for any other reason than to gloat. Hubris, apparently the fatal flaw of the majority of Athena’s children and Annie just happened to have an ego the size of Mr. D’s strawberry fields.

Which was big. Really big.

“She has learned, Percy, that you have survived,” came Chiron’s answer.

I smiled sarcastically. Did I mention that Annabeth was really bad news?

“Why does she care?” the son of Hermes snarled viciously. “Suddenly feeling guilty?”

“Quite the opposite, I’m afraid, Luke. She wants a second chance.”

The cabin counselors broke out into a cacophony of noise. Faster than I had ever seen, Luke was out of his seat and standing behind mine. I twisted my neck to look up at him, shuddering at the malice I saw glittering in his eyes, darkening them almost black instead of their warm blue.

“She says, that the consequences, should Percy not agree, would be quite dire,” the centaur continued, unable to meet either mine or Luke’s eyes.

Luke snarled once more. “And how does she intend to guarantee that? She can’t touch the camp.”

Chiron’s shoulders slumped, as if the weight of the world had suddenly come crashing down upon him. “Annabeth has threatened to kill one camper every night until Percy agrees.”

I felt like I had been dunked in ice water. At least, that’s how I imagined having my breath stolen away felt like. Being dunked in water, a favorite tactic of bullies, was never a problem for me, cold or otherwise.

Why did Luke keep asking questions I definitely didn’t want the answers to?

“Fine.” I was proud that my voice didn’t shake, although the tightness in that one word betrayed my confidence.

The blond’s fingers dug into my shoulders so hard I thought I heard bones creaking. “Perce, you can’t,” he rasped. “She almost killed you last time. This time she’ll stand watch over your body until you stop breathing.”

“What would you have me do? Hide in the lake? I’m not going to let them die for me.”

The campers that could return home already had, leaving twenty-seven year rounders, including me and Luke. That was twenty-six people Annabeth was willing to kill to get to me.

“It’s a bluff, Perce. She can’t touch the campers. No monster is getting past the barrier. The only way for one to enter camp would be for someone to summon it.”

“She has an invisibility cap,” I said listlessly. Annabeth didn’t need a monster to do her dirty work. She could sneak into camp and do it herself. I was heartily sick and tired of her games.

“Call her back,” I told Chiron, who was gazing at me with sad eyes. “Tell her if it’s a fight she wants she got it.”

“Let me come with you.” I was already shaking my head before Luke could finish.

Hades knew there wasn’t anyone I’d trust at my back more, but I didn’t think his presence would be well received by Annabeth. “You being there would probably only exacerbate matters. You know, remind her I chose you over her.”

“Exacerbate, huh?” he said tightly. “Big word.”

I tried to stomp on his foot. “Shut up.”  I wasn’t really upset. Luke teasing meant he wasn’t going to argue with me.

With nothing else to be said, Chiron declared the meeting over, politely gesturing for the other cabin counselors to leave, aside from Luke who would have remained behind no matter what the training master said.

Charlie Beckendorf wished me good luck on his way out and told me to stop by the Hephaestus workshop for some cool weapons they had been working on. Clarisse told me not to die or she’d kill me herself.

Malcolm was last in line to leave the war room. He paused in front of me, shifting his weight from back to front. His mouth opened but no words came out. He’d close it, swallow, and try again. “I know you’re not friends and that she tried to kill you . . .” the boy said finally, “but Annabeth is my sister. This is all a mistake, and she’ll see that eventually.”

I stood silently while he tried to extol Annabeth as some misunderstood person instead of the evil psychotic girl she was. I know wars had been fought over stupider things, but mommy issues simply wasn’t a good reason.

Well, I suppose somebody had to plead on her behalf, because Luke certainly wasn’t going to.

“Just . . . don’t kill her. Please,” begged Malcolm. “She’s young.”

My mouth thinned. I was twelve, just like her. Age wasn’t an excuse for being stupid. Especially for a child of Athena. Their brains probably aged like dogs did.

Malcom continued to shift his weight nervously, looking at me expectantly the longer my silence stretched. Then his gaze would break away. I was probably wearing the I-Think-You-Are-A-Colossal-Idiot face, and coming from me, the kid who kept a straight C average, it was pretty effective. I mean, if I thought something was stupid, then it had to be really, really dumb.

And right now, that was Malcolm’s request. Was he expecting me to stand still while she set another pit scorpion on me? This wasn’t training. Annabeth had joined Kronos. We wouldn’t stop at first blood or concede the fight when one of us wound up on the ground.

She would be aiming to kill. And if I didn’t do the same she would succeed.

When the awkwardness become too much, the blond haired, grey eyed child of Athena hastily backed out of the room.

“Are you certain you wish to do this, Percy?”

I reclaimed my seat, slumping. Chiron sounded every one of his thousands of years. I knew I certainly felt them. To think, just a couple months ago I was a normal kid not fighting for my life every other day. Did any other twelve year old have to deal with this crap?

“Do I have a choice?”

Chiron’s hooves echoed on the wooden floorboard as he walked the length of the table to stand next to me. His hand rested lightly on my shoulder and I tried to draw strength from that.

Really. I did. But it reminded me all too much of how he comforted me when Chiron found me in my apartment clutching at my mom’s dead body. I felt like he was already mourning me.

Which made sense, in a really morbid way. Annabeth had more experience than me, and by nature was a more strategic fighter. She could summon monsters straight from Tartarus. She held all the cards, currently.

In a fight between me and Annabeth, I’d bet on her too. I didn’t see any way of me winning this.

“There is always a choice. We can have a patrol posted to prevent her from entering the camp’s boundaries,” the centaur suggested. “If she cannot get into the camp, she cannot carry out her threat.”

“There’s no way we can defend the entire border,” denied Luke. “Maybe if it was summer and we had all the campers. But there are only twenty-seven of us. And five of them are her siblings. I wouldn’t be able to trust them to fight her.”

“I thought you would be for any plan where we told Annabeth to get lost.”

“If we can do it without putting the rest of Camp Half-Blood at risk.” The son of Hermes sighed. “And I just don’t think that’s possible. As much as I hate the idea of you going through with this, I don’t see any other way to move forward. At least you stand a chance against Annabeth.”

I shot him an incredulous look. Annabeth had been a resident here for five years, which meant she was definitely more skilled than me. Don’t get me wrong. I loved movies where the underdog wins, but that kind of thing only happens in the movies and half the time it’s because the hero is extremely lucky.

Clearly, I only had bad lack.

“Do not dismiss your skill with a blade so easily, Percy,” Chiron said encouragingly.

Okay. I had enough of the pity party. “I’m not going to change my mind, so let’s get this over with.”

The activities director ducked his torso into a side room and exited with two handheld mist sprayers, one of which he handed to Luke. I released a strangled snort. I had never once given thought to how the camp generated the mist they used for Iris Messages, but I wouldn’t have thought of portable mist sprayers.

Chiron and Luke stood across from each other, a comfortable three feet apart. “Come, Percy,” he said, motioning for me to join them at the head of the table. “I expect that you shall have to make the call yourself.”

_At least they are electric_ , I thought, when Luke and Chiron held the mist sprayers aloft. They wouldn’t get tired keeping the mist going when Annabeth droned on.

Chiron nodded to me and I breathed in deeply to calm my nerves.

"Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering." I tossed a golden drachma through the artificially created rainbow.

“Annabeth Chase,” I announced flatly when it shimmered. An image of her waxy face appeared before me. The skin around her eyes looked rather pinched.

“I knew that would get your attention, Jackson,” she said in lieu of greeting.

“Whatever, Annabelle,” I snapped, purposefully using the wrong name. She absolutely hated it whenever Mr. D. did it. “You got what you wanted. I agree to your challenge.”

Annabeth’s face twisted. “You should be thanking me, Jackson.”

My eyebrows shoot into my hairline. “No worries,” I said coolly. “You’re only making it easier for me to kick your ass.”

“Thanks to me,” she continued like I hadn’t spoken, “you don’t have to fulfill the prophecy. The fate of Olympus, and the world really, is no longer in your hands. Isn’t that a relief?”

No actually. That didn’t ease my mind at all. My death would mean waiting for another child to reach sixteen, and there were no other demigods belonging to the Big Three. Kronos was amassing and army and preparing for war now. By the time the child of the prophecy came along, what would there be left to save?

“Whatever, Annabelle,” I repeated, delighting in how her eye twitched. “When are we having this showdown?”

“Anxious to die?” she asked conversationally.

“To make you pay,” I correct.

“Saturday. Central Park. At dawn. Come alone. And don’t be late.” Instructions delivered, Annabeth slashed her knife through the Iris Message, ending it.

Luke dropped his sprayer on the conference table, grabbed my wrist, and bodily dragged me to the Arena.

“Luke, man, what are you doing?”

“I’ve got two days to teach you everything there is to know about Annabeth to prepare you to beat her. You’re not going to eat, sleep, or take a piss in that time.”

“Are you serious?” I yelled.

“Yes,” he replied evenly. “I’ve already lost two of my closest friends. I’m not losing you, too.” That neatly shut up any response I was going to make. “Right. Now come at me with the intent to kill.”

In face of Luke’s determination, there was nothing I could do but reveal my sword and charge.


	15. My Father's Identity is Questioned

Central Park was ginormous. Annabeth probably could rattle off the exact size and name some obscure demigod that was responsible for its being built. She hadn’t given any directions besides showing up at dawn and alone, so I took advantage of her mistake.

I paced in front of the fountain. She would be smart enough to find me here. The fountain was a more strategic position for me, as it was a better source of water than the duck pond because I could use the underground pipes to draw on more water. And that would hopefully even the playing field.

Not that I was anticipating a fair fight, not with how this showdown had been organized. She had already proven herself capable of using dirty tactics to get what she wanted. According to Luke, that had always been her style. When the son of Hermes was teaching her to fight, he had encouraged it, as a means of surprising bigger opponents and getting the upper hand, then darting in with her knife to strike the final blow before they realized she was a capable fighter. Witty taunts were her favorite and Annie had a knack for knowing which buttons to push to piss off her fellow campers. It was easier to fight someone who stopped trying to win and was blinded by emotions.

Knowing Annabeth’s game plan didn’t make me any better prepared. There was enough history between just the two of us to make me hate her. The second she let loose some crack about Luke or Camp Half-Blood or most likely my mom, I would lose, because I’d forget about defeating Annie and want to pummel her until her face was unrecognizable.

Luke had tried, in the two days I had to ready myself, to curb my quick temper. To no avail. It would have been a miracle had he succeeded, but I was a son of Poseidon. A son of the sea. The sea could not be tamed and neither could my rage.

Instead, I would have to channel my fury, use it to make me stronger. Luke had let me go, after a spine crushing hug, with the order to come back alive, reminding me that my best bet was to be as unpredictable as the ocean. Annabeth wasn’t the quickest thinker on her feet.

Too many options that she turned over before acting.

Now I paced back and forth rigidly, like a wind-up toy, waiting for her to show up. My eyes kept darting to the sky line, which was becoming lighter with each circuit.

What if this was a trick? Annabeth had called me out for a duel, but what if she just wanted me out of Camp? What if her true goal was the camp all along and she was going to kill the demigods that sided with their parents while I foolishly waited for her? Was I waiting for nothing? Fear for Grover and Luke and the rest of Camp (not Mr. D. though) churned my stomach.

I whirled around, confident that the daughter of Athena would be a no show and this fight was nothing more than a convenient distraction to get me out of the camp. She would be at Camp Half-Blood, where I should be.

I took a startled step back. There was Annabeth, casually twirling her knife as stormy grey eyes roved my body, judging every inch of flesh for the spot that would cause the most pain. She was flanked by two mean looking Cyclopes that wielded clubs as tall as she was, and the top of her head came up to their elbows. I think their biceps were as big around as my head.

Aside from thinking how hysterically small she looked compared to her bodyguards, their presence didn’t faze me. I would have been more surprised if Annabeth had come alone. More suspicious too, since she only required that I come alone.

“I don’t like you, Jackson.” I stared at her flatly. I got that memo when she tried to kill me. This shindig wasn’t my idea. “I’m only doing this because Lord Kronos ordered it.”

Her upper lip curled back in distaste. “He believes you to be a threat because you triumphed on one small quest. But I know better,” Annabeth said smugly. That small quest almost started a war and would have if I hadn’t found Zeus’s lightning bolt and returned it. “You’re worthless, Jackson. You’re not the hero. Even if you lived to be sixteen, you would fail. Your inadequacies will bring Olympus to its knees.”

Sudden pain flared in my hands. Distantly, I realized that I had clenched my hands so tightly that my fingernails had broken skin.

I didn’t care that the prophecy said I could bring about either fate. In the end, it came down to my choice. _A single choice shall end his days. Olympus to preserve or raze._ And as irritating as the gods were, Kronos and the titans would be infinitely worse. I wasn’t going to destroy Olympus.

I was going to see the gods change.

I speared her with a glare that I reserved especially for her. My Ultimate-Deluxe-You’re-Not-Walking-Away-With-Your-Head-Attached-To-Your-Shoulders-Glare.

“Cute,” she smiled condescendingly. “Reminds me of a poodle. But that’s what you are. To your father and the rest of them you’re nothing more than a trained, obedient dog. Doing anything and everything to garner their attention only for them to pat you on the head and send you away until the next time they need you.” The longer she went off on her tangent the harsher her face became until I thought she might literally shoot daggers out of her eyes.

A niggling feeling of doubt rose at her words. Zeus had dismissed me even before he clapped eyes on me. Both visits to Olympus had been short and not very sweet. Were the demigods born to fight and die by the gods’ whims?

I thrust my hand into my pocket, withdrawing Riptide which was already shifting from pen form to a gleaming bronze sword.

Annie laughed mirthlessly. “So anxious to start. To taste the bitter sting of defeat.”

“Enough stalling,” I said, annoyed how calm and composed she looked. “You wanted a rematch, so stop twirling your knife and let’s do this already.”

Annabeth’s face pinched, the corners of her eyes tightened. “I don’t need Luke’s handouts to beat you.” She slowly sheathed the knife. “Do you know what force ratios are?”

The sudden change in subject took the wind out of my sails. Anger bled away, giving over to confusion.

“No, of course you don’t,” she mocked, reading the uncertainty on my face. “Did you know, Jackson, that it only takes eight pounds of pressure per square inch to dislocate a wrist? Let me demonstrate.”

Quick as a snake, her fingers darted forward, precisely jabbing at the fleshy underside of my wrist. Pain surged immediately. Unintentionally, I relaxed my grip on Riptide and the sword clattered to the ground. In shock and blindsided by the sudden onset of pain, I took a shaky step back, the back of my legs bumping into the stone fountain. It was all that kept me standing at this point.

“What did you do?”

“Don’t you ever listen, Jackson?” she asked, voice dripping with feigned disappointment. “Using physiology, body mechanics, and force ratios, I disarmed you. Almost literally.”

That was something I hated most about Annabeth. Her self-entitled superiority because she was smarter. She reveled in her knowledge over me when Chiron assigned her to tutor me. It wasn’t a wonder that I preferred Luke’s teaching methods over hers.

The pain in my wrist was excruciating. I wouldn’t be able to hold a sword, and I wasn’t confident in my ability to wield Riptide left-handed. So I struck out with a leg sweep, aimed to smash into her ribs. Only Annabeth jabbed another finger to the inside of my thigh, just above the knee.

White hot fire exploded in my leg. I crumpled to the ground, good hand grasping uselessly at my upper leg. Annabeth slammed one booted foot atop my thigh and I screamed in agony. “Three pounds of pressure per square inch to the Saphenous nerve cluster,” she declared.

She crouched beside my fallen form, lightly pressing her fingertips into the junction of neck and shoulder. I flinched away and the blonde pressed down more. “And with just six pounds of pressure here,” Annie dug her fingers in harder, “to the carotid artery, I could cut off blood flow to your brain. Then you’d truly be a Kelp Head.”

Fear raced through me. Could she really kill me with just a jab of her finger? Given how expertly she disabled my dominant arm and my left leg, I wouldn’t put it past her to know just where to press those damnable fingers to send me packing back to Hades.

Annabeth’s face was close enough that I could kiss her. I recoiled at the thought, cursing my ADHD that resulted in a lot of random thoughts. My first thought was never appropriate, and without any sort of brain-to-mouth filter, I’d blurt it out. I got into a lot of fights at Yancy because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

Thankfully, Annabeth interpreted the reflexive shudder of disgust as me trembling in fear, if the unholy gleam in her eyes was anything to go by.

“But that would be too simple. Too quick.” Her delighted expression hardened, becoming calculating again. “Lord Kronos punished me because you survived, and for that I am going to make you suffer.” Annabeth’s gray eyes were like ice chips; cold and flat and hard.

I had heard enough of her grandstanding. I threw my head forward, slamming my forehead into her own with a bone jarring crack. Through the resulting tears of pain I could see Annabeth land gracelessly on her butt.

Her burly bodyguards lurched forward, only to be halted by their charge’s raise fist. “You’re going to regret that, Jackson,” she spat.

“No way. I always wanted to head-butt someone,” I retorted, using the rim of the fountain to force myself upright.

And then Annabeth came at me with a flying tackle. The back of my skull cracked against the stone fountain and black spots danced before my eyes. Before I could recover, her hands were wrapped around my throat.

Instead of doing the sensible, and instinctive, thing, removing her hands from my neck before she choked the ever-loving life out of me, I grappled for her left arm, searching for the knife she had sheathed there earlier.

Annabeth realized my true intent too late. By the time she realized I wasn’t pushing her arm away, I had already slipped the knife from its holster. She couldn’t let go fast enough to avoid a slice to the tender flesh of her forearm.

She retreated, surprised, and I double over, simultaneously trying to massage my throat and not cut it open. When Luke had warned me that Annabeth fought dirty, I hadn’t expected some kind of super genius that could cause pain with the tips of her fingers or her choking me when I couldn’t defend myself.

I stood unsteadily, tentatively bracing myself with my left leg, prepared for if she threw herself at me again. The pain of standing on it wasn’t as intense. It had settled to a dull, constant throb. The stolen dagger was clutched in a white knuckled grip.

Annabeth glared hatefully but didn’t rush me. Now that I had her knife, not only was she weaponless, but she couldn’t use it to create a portal and escape like she did in the woods. Despite two useless limbs, I had the upper hand and we both knew it.

The daughter of Athena’s fatal flaw was hubris. Pride excessive enough to rival the gods.

She had this whole encounter choreographed. Knew exactly how it was going to end. With her standing triumphantly over me, watching as I died. But she was too confident. Annie thought she had won because she had put me on the ground, unable to fight with a lamed arm and leg. She had underestimated me and my stubbornness and it cost her the battle.

“Don’t get cocky, Jackson, just because you surprised me. You’re in no position to attack me. You can hardly stand on that leg.” She gestured pointlessly at the leg she had struck which I had position further back.

I estimated that I could withstand another one of her pressure jabs so long as she didn’t aim for the artery in my neck. I would only need to get close enough to sink the knife into her gut.

But that kind of risk wasn’t even necessary. “You forgot, Anniebell,” I smirked, deliberately goading her with one of Mr. D.’s names, “I don’t need a weapon.” Because I knew it would annoy her, I tucked the knife into the belt loop on my jeans. Then I reached my right hand behind me, dipping fingers into the water sitting in the fountain’s basin. Immediately, the pain in my wrist receded, quickly followed by that in my head, neck, and leg.

“I’m a son of Poseidon.”

With that proud declaration, I held my arms out to the side. The familiar sound of rushing water filled my ears. Annabeth’s eyes widened in alarm, gray irises all but disappearing in the white. The mass of water rose behind me, roiling and frenzied, begging to be released.

I let it go. The water exploded past me with the force of a cannon and slammed into the blonde girl. When the torrent finally let up, Annabeth glared at me balefully.

“This isn’t over, Jackson,” she snarled viciously, jammer her baseball cap onto her bedraggled locks.

She vanished and fled. The two Cyclopes she left behind growled, turning on me. In short order they were two piles of monster dust.

The jubilance I felt at my victory was brief. Annabeth was right in a sense. This was far from over. Today had been one battle. The first of many to come. And it would be years before it ended. There were three more birthdays before the events the Great Prophecy spoke of.

I thrust a hand into my pocket, drawing comfort from Riptide, whose return had gone unnoticed. Vaguely, in the back of my mind, I noted that I should probably test how long it took for my sword to return, in case I was ever disarmed again.

However, I let that thought go, slipping out of the gates and onto the street. Unconsciously, I walked the streets, coming to a halt outside the apartment building I hadn’t been back to since I returned from my quest. Since my mom died and I killed a man.

I wasn’t surprised to find Luke leaning comfortably against the stoop. He looked me over critically; eyes linger on the knife hastily stowed on my hip, before rising from his slouch.

“I was supposed to come alone,” I pointed out needlessly.

“You did,” Luke shrugged flippantly. “Not a scratch on you. Did she bail?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know she didn’t. Here.” I tossed the knife, which had belonged to him once upon a time. The son of Hermes snatched it out of the air with nimble fingers. “Thought you might want it back.”

“Sure Poseidon’s your dad?” he asked, slipping the knife inside a pocket on the interior of his jacket. “You’re not half bad at stealing.”

“How did you get here?” Argus had driven me in the camp’s van and hurried back afterwards.

In answer, Luke leapt over the stoop’s railing and ducked into the alley. Curious, I followed him. He stood beside a white winged horse, patting its mane.

“This here is Guido. He’s a pegasus,” explained Luke. “Chiron will probably get you started on them soon. Should be easy since your father created horses. He’ll be relieved to learn you survived.”

I blinked. I had forgotten Poseidon wasn’t responsible for just the sea. Luke climbed astride Guido, holding a hand out for me. I took it and he lifted me up behind him.

“Hold on tight,” he said to me, and to the pegasus, “take us home, Guido.”

“I thought Chiron had faith in me,” I said when the blond’s last line filtered through.

“He has faith in all his campers. But he’ll still be pleased that you made it back alive. He’s being doing that job for a thousand years. Chiron’s lost a lot of students.”

My somber mood from earlier returned. The grip I had on his torso tightened. “You won’t be one of them,” Luke promised firmly.

I said nothing, wishing I could believe that, but I had been nearly killed several times in my short emergence as a demigod. Kronos was going to do everything in his considerable power to see me dead so he could ransack Olympus without fear of defeat hanging over his head like a guillotine.

“Do me a favor when we get back?” I asked, wanting to move the conversation away from my chances of survival, and waved my pen in front of him. “I want to figure out its limits.”

Luke slanted an eyebrow at me over his shoulder. “I thought I was a slave driver and you were never going to match swords against me again?

I was holding to that. Beating me up in guise of helping me was more like what he had done. Muscles that I didn’t know existed ached when Luke was done with me. “What? No, not a spar. I want to see how long it takes to return.”

The older teen smiled approvingly. “We’ll get right on that.”

“Right away?” I yelped. “Don’t I deserve a break? I just saved everyone at camp.”

“You can rest when you’re dead, Perce.”

“Slave driver,” I muttered against his back.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”


	16. I Take Second Place in a Throwing Event

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late and shorter than usual. I took some time for myself after final exams to catch up reading stories, and then my dad crashed his bike and is now in the hospital. I haven’t really had the time to write, never mind been in the right mood to write snarky banter. On a lighter note, I literally drew lines in the dirt and measured how far I could throw a pen, though I’m sure Luke could toss further than me.

The first thing I saw when Guido touched down at Camp was a visibly anxious Chiron. The centaur was digging a hoof into the ground, much like a person nervously tapped their foot. He looked up when the wind changed direction curtesy of Guido’s powerful wingbeats, and his wizened face practically lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Well done, Percy, my boy,” he praised as Guido dropped out of the sky. And I mean that literally. The pegasus hovered ten feet above the earth and then suddenly tucked in his wings and dropped like a stone, legs bending to absorb the impact of two carrying two riders. “I’m glad to see that you’ve returned safely,” he noted, taking in the lack of injuries. Instantaneous healing was probably my favorite inherited godly ability thus far.

It’s not until I’m standing on solid ground that I realized I hadn’t felt any impending feelings of doom because of flying.

“How come Zeus didn’t knock me out of the sky?” Luke and Chiron both gave me perplexed looks. Even for someone of my remarkable low attention span it was an unexpected question. “Grover said Zeus would kill me if I ever set foot in his domain,” I explained, waving an arm at the now grazing winged horse that had carried me back from Central Park.

The god himself had said the same thing when I returned his symbol of power before he exited dramatically, warning me that he would not tolerate his brother’s son flying again.

Luke ran a hand along Guido’s flank. “That’s because pegasi were created by your father. So long as you ride one of them, Zeus can’t touch you. Just like gods can’t take other gods symbols, they can’t mess with the beings they created.”

I grinned widely at the answer, wondering if Poseidon had given life to winged horses purely for that reason, to circumvent and annoy his brother. Because that was exactly what I had done to Gabe.

The man used to treat my bedroom like it was his personal man cave, leaving everything from trash to mud covered shoes in there (which was a miracle because that required the lazy bastard both leaving the apartment on a rainy day and walking). But that was fine. I could deal with that. Two hours and a couple of heavy duty trash bags and my room would look like I didn’t bother getting expelled from another school.

What I couldn’t stand was when that excuse for a human pressured my mom for money for his poker games. Gabe was nowhere near as good as he believed he was. His buddies could see the dollar signs in his eyes when he had a good hand, and were too afraid of him to fold, but never wagered much. Otherwise, he pissed away money, losing it faster than he could win it. My mom worked two jobs to support us and her dream to finish classes and earn her diploma. Giving him money when he demanded it kept him happy and I hated that Gabe put her in a position where she had to choose between me and her.

If she refused him and kept the money, Gabe would go after me. I didn’t think for one second that my mom hadn’t know about my arrangement with him, and she’d much rather accommodate him than see me get hurt. But the money was as good as gone if she handed it over, and a drunk and angry Gabe was a bad combination. Either way, she lost.

I got my revenge though. Gabe complained several times a day how the cheap beer he was forced to drink tasted like swill. He was a lazy bastard through and through, never leaving the couch if he could help it. Instead he ordered me or my mom to open a bottle and bring it to him. She had given me an amused smile when I volunteered to be his bus boy.

She held a finger to her lips and winked. “This’ll be our secret,” she said, as I dumped half the bottle down the sink and replaced it with water. It was satisfying to watch Gabe drink it down and cringe at the unpleasant taste.

It was petty revenge, really, but it made me feel better about the situation, not to mention it made my mom happy I’m sure, since she never tried to stop me.

“Annabeth will not be so quick to try that again,” said Chiron, tail hairs flicking side to side. “However, we shall have to revise your training schedule, Percy. It may be a few months before she attempts something similar, but she does not accept defeat. She will continue to throw herself at a brick wall until she breaks through.”

“And,” Luke spoke, drawing out the word as nimble fingers darted into my front pocket, “we’ll start with this.”

“What? Now?” I yelped.

“No sense wasting time. Once this is done we can move on to actually teaching you to swing that sword.”

“I just got Vulcan nerve pinched twice!” I wondered if it was too late to find a boarding school that would accept late admissions. There had to be a school in New York that didn’t know about me. “And I’ve had enough lessons with you. About swordsmanship or otherwise!” I exclaimed.

“It’s technically not a nerve pinch if she didn’t target the neck. And seeing as you’re still conscious. . .” The son of Hermes’ response was a nonchalantly raised brow. “We’ve really only scratched the surface. There are still about 8,011 I need to teach you.”

Boggled as I was by the insanely large number that Luke appeared to be genuinely serious about, I didn’t protest as he flung Riptide in pen form as far as he could. The older teen then pulled out a stopwatch, pushing the rightmost button to set the numbers ticking, which he handed over to me, instructing me to stop the clock when my sword returned. Meanwhile, he hopped astride Guido once more and took off to estimate the distance.

It had something to do with Hermes also being the patron god of travelers, but his children had the uncanny ability to estimate the distance between two objects, places, or points. And by estimate I mean name down to how many parts of an inch away something was.

I waited as the numbers steadily climbed upwards, unease growing as the time went over a minute. I didn’t need to be a genius tactician to know that the longer it took for my sword to magically return to my pocket the worse off I was. My enemy wasn’t going to be nice enough to wait several minutes so the fight could continue on even footing.

I shot a worried look at Luke who shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘what can you do?’ and pointed to his feet, where presumably Riptide still laid. Seconds later I felt the familiar weight of the ballpoint pen in my pants pocket and slammed my thumb down on the stop button, six hundredths of a second over two minutes.

Turns out, Luke could throw a long distance. Further than I had imagined at least. A pen didn’t seem aerodynamic, but the older teen was either an Olympic pen thrower or delighted in breaking the rules of physics.

“Sixty-three feet and an inch!” he crowed. “Not bad for a first toss. You should throw it next. Annabeth has a similar muscular build as you. It wouldn’t hurt to know potentially how far she could send it.”

My toss wasn’t as good. Fifty-two feet, nine and a half inches, according to the human tape measurer. From there, Luke flew my sword out increasing distances of fifty feet, taking the stopwatch with him. It was easier for him to drop the pen and start the clock and then stop it when it vanished than it was for me to start it when he waved his hand or something. No matter how far away he got though, Riptide was back in my pocket in exactly two minutes.

Until it wasn’t. Luke was up to 500 feet and I knew the two minute mark had already elapsed. All in all, I was satisfied with the results, even though I disliked what they meant. I’d have to do my best not to be disarmed, because two minutes in a sword fight without a sword would be disastrous. Maybe learn some hand to hand combat.  Not from any of the Ares kids though.  They’d use it as an excuse to turn me black and blue as vengeance for my fight with the god of war. Beckendorf was a possibility. The son of Hephaestus was built and worked the camp forges all day, so he definitely had the strength for it.

I was distracted from my thoughts by the familiar weight of a pen dropping into my pocket. “So 500 feet’s the limit?” I reaffirmed when Luke touched down. “It took longer to come back.”

“I put it in my pocket, actually,” he said with a blasé voice. “Dropped it after the two minutes were up. So don’t lose that,” he cautioned as he handed Riptide over.

I cursed in Greek.

What was the point of owning a sword that magically returned when lost if it didn’t return all the time?

“Wish I had control over metal like Magneto,” I grouched. Forget waiting. I’d just call the sword back to me. Luke’s eyes glowed a brighter blue suddenly, making me wish I could take back my complaint.

However, he didn’t say anything, instead wrapping an arm about my shoulder companionably and steering me towards the stables. “Let’s introduce you to the herd.”

“No more training?” I asked suspiciously. Luke pushed me well past my breaking point the last two days. I had never felt such overwhelming exhaustion. And now it wasn’t even ten in the morning and he was already calling it quits for the day?

“You deserve some rest after saving the camp a second time.”

“That’s what I said before!” I yelled, outraged.

“Don’t complain, Percy. You’re getting the rest of the day off. What more do you want?” I held back a sigh. Were sane friends too much to ask for?


	17. Author's Note

Obviously this is not a chapter.

I have a roommate who was having computer issues. I lent her my flash drive, where I saved all my unfinished story chapters, plot bunnies, research, everything on. I was thinking, since I’ve seen author’s notes all the time who have lost all their work and had to start over. I thought, by saving it on a flash drive, that that would never happen to me. I literally only saved word documents and pictures. But then I lend my roommate my flash drive and the stupid bitch of a tech she called to helps formats my flash drive, despite being told not to because a warning message said I’d lose all my files. And then I spent four hours trying to contact anybody in Microsoft with brains, only to be told they don’t have the technical skills required to recover my files and that and I quote “to be honest, once you have formatted your files on your flash drive there is no way to recover it manually.”

News flash assholes, I didn’t. One of your agents screwed up and you’re not doing a damn thing to fix it.

So despite my best efforts to never be in this situation, I find myself here none the less, having to rebrainstorm, replot, and basically rewrite 11 currently in progress stories and one that I had start and wasn’t ready to post yet.

This is really frustrating, because I honestly just found the time and motivation to sit down and write again after everything that happened with my dad, and now I have to start over.

So, if you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s because I have to start from scratch. Because I can’t afford to pay Best Buy $250 to ship my flash drive out for recovery for several weeks with no guarantee that they can recover my files.

I feel horrible. I had a good cry fest over it. But my hands are tied. I found a local computer repair store will to give it a try for $100, which is better but still pretty steep at the moment. And honestly, if it came down to that, I’d rather start over again and not spend so much money.

I just . . . bear with me please. If any of you write or know someone that does, tell them to back up their files. This is the most soul crushing feeling.


End file.
